Impossible
by SiriuslyInLove-X
Summary: Paul was standing in front of me in nothing but his boxers. I had to admit, as much as I disliked him, he was kinda hot. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Excuse me. Did I just blush? Oh sweet Jesus, you have got to me kidding me. PaulXOC
1. Forks

Chapter One

'C'mon Ruby! You'll love it, I know you will!' My mother shouted from the front door of our new house. She looked out at me, an excited grin on her face as she waved me in. I gazed blankly back at her, and then as if she wasn't bothered by my lack of enthusiasm, she scurried into the house, leaving the door open. I sat in the car, my arms folded and staring out at the small cottage that we now had to call 'home'. It was nothing compared to what we had back in California; back in California it was sunny. I craned my neck and looked up at the sky through the window. Grey. That was the dominant colour although dark black clouds were making their way closer towards the house. I sighed and glanced back at the house. Mum and Dad seemed to be exploring. I could hear Mum squeal in delight; she had probably found some old antique chair abandoned by its previous owners or some grubby old picture of a horse and its rider. She was an antique freak; Dad wasn't much better. But I seemed to be more interested in his hobby. Old cars. I often dreamed of the day that he was going to get me an Alfa Romeo SZ like he had promised, but I knew that was never going to happen. He made lots of promises, my Dad. He kept none of them, well except one. 'We'll move somewhere better than this, Rubes. Leave all this nonsense behind,' he said, when he found me in my room sulking because yet again, I had been cheated on by my boyfriend and used by my so-called friends. And I still wasn't sure whether or not that this place, which was named after a piece of cutlery, was going to be better than California.

After glancing up at the sky to see the engorged clouds looming dangerously overhead, I decided that maybe it was time to make a run for cover rather than having to brave getting soaked to the bone. I blinked suddenly as a raindrop hit the window I had been staring out of. Sneering, I grabbed my red hoody and messenger bag and quickly swung open the door of the car. Standing up, I looked the house up and down; to be honest, it didn't look too bad. I glanced left, then right; it was about fifty metres from the next house and we were surrounded by forest. Just what my mother had wanted, somewhere secluded and quiet. She was right about the secluded part, this place was practically dead. Slamming the car door behind me, I walked slowly up the paved walkway towards the house. The front door was open like Mum had left it; she was busy scuttling around in what looked like a kitchen. I stood in the doorway of the house and glanced around, the walls seemed to be plastered in the same dull, cream wallpaper throughout the house. Charming, I thought to myself, before taking one step into the house and shutting the door behind me. The smell reminded me of an old lady's home, with twenty cats creeping in the shadows. I do like cats, but the thought of living with twenty attention seeking felines would make anyone shudder.

I suddenly noticed my mother stop abruptly in the door of the kitchen. A broad grin erupted onto her face. 'Ruby!' she screeched, and came rushing towards me, her arms held out in front of her. 'Well? Well? What do you think?' she asked, bombarding me with questions. She instantly grabbed hold of my elbow before I could answer and steered me into the nearest room. 'Now,' she said, waving her hands around, as if she was showing off the room, 'This is the living room. I was thinking to go for a bit of red in here maybe, you know, brighten the place up a bit.' She glanced at me, expecting some sort of a reply.

'Hmm .. yeah .. sure, Mum,' I said, slowly backing away and hoping to make a run for the stairs before she could inform me of her other ideas. Mum is an interior designer in her own rights, but it's not her job. She's a perfectionist, everything has to look perfect. She's big on how she looks too; I've gotten used to having cold showers in the morning. 'Do you mind if I just go – '

'No! No, no! I have to show you the sun-room! It's the perfect little chill-out zone,' she said, dragging me through a pair of double doors and into a cold-looking, tiled extension. Maybe she was being literal when she called it the chill-out zone. Put it this way, it would have been warmer in the freezer. I think she saw me shudder from the cold, because she began going on about how adding furniture to the room would make it warmer. 'Oh, and of course, we could put a little heater in that corner there – it would look lovely!'

'I was actually thinking that me and Rubes could make this the games room,' Dad said, creeping up behind us and putting his arms around my shoulders and my mother's shoulders. I almost laughed; like Mum was going to let us have a games room, it would be too much fun for her. 'What do you say, Pearl? We could put our pool table in here, and a couch and a big TV to watch the games on.' I glanced up at Dad, my eyebrow raised. He was being extremely hopeful. He simply winked back and turned his attention to Mum who was looking rather perturbed by the idea.

'Well – um – we'll see,' Mum said, pondering a moment before turning on her pink high-heels and walking off through the living room. She was worse than a stroppy teenager. Even I'm not that bad … okay, well, maybe that's an understatement. I haven't been the worst I could have been, I mean, I don't do drugs and I only drink when I have to, it's not as if I come home wasted every night. I know far better than that; I just have to look at my brother. James was the typical 'this is my body, I can do whatever the hell I like' type person; and for all the crap he did, it didn't get him that far in life. He's still in California working in a sandwich bar in the city.

'So Rubes,' I jumped in surprise, forgetting that my Dad was still there. 'What do you think? It's maybe a bit far out for you, but there's plenty of kids your age who live near by,' he said, glancing down at me, sounding hopeful that I might actually bother to socialise. Making friends wasn't exactly my thing. Well, after being constantly used by every person you met, I think you might feel the same way too.

'I haven't really been able to have a look around, Dad. Mum's babbling in my ear about all her design ideas and stuff and I haven't even got to see my room,' I said, wondering if he would stop talking to me and let me go and do my own thing. Independence is a must for me, I hate relying on anyone for anything. Except my mother, she puts food on the table for me.

Dad chuckled, clearly he though that being cornered by Mum and forced to listen to her cackle on about stuff I didn't care about, was funny. 'Well,' he began, glancing over his shoulder, 'Now you're shot of her, I suggest you run up the stairs to your room and hibernate until she has come out of 'everything has to be perfect' mode,' he said, somehow, he makes everything sound so simple. I formed a feeble smile, decided it was a good idea and began to walk quickly out of the sun-room. 'And Rubes,' Dad called after me. I stopped sharply and turned around, knitting my eyebrows. 'My car keys are sitting on the table in the front porch, take them for a drive. You might get to know some people.'

I nodded, making an indecisive face. 'Yeah, sure,' I said with a shrug of my shoulders, 'Thanks, Dad.' I turned around again, leaving him standing in the middle of the room, alone, as I wandered through the empty living room and into the hallway. Mum was rustling about in the kitchen. I took a peek, to see her fumbling in a drawer and sighing exasperatedly. Quickly and unnoticeably, I crossed the hallway and ran up the stairs; I frowned as the stairs creaked under my weight. I glanced around; there were four doors. Presumably three bedrooms and a bathroom. I walked forward towards the closest door, pulled down the handle and pushed open the door – it was the bathroom. A bright, yellow bathroom with blue tiles. There was a shower, a bath, toilet, wash-hand basin and a small unit in the corner. I craned my neck around the door to get a closer look; it was nothing special but it was better than what I had imagined. Content with the fact that we had a clean and relatively new bathroom, I closed the door. I turned right, to face yet another door that was already ajar. After a loud screak, the door opened to reveal a large room which was obviously going to be my parents room.

After thoroughly deciding that I didn't want to be anywhere near the front of the house beside the road, I chose the room that overlooked the small garden and the dark forest. The room wasn't overly big, but it was a nice size; perfect for putting my double bed, desk, wardrobe and easel in. There was also the small burden of having to ask my Dad to put a shelf up for my books, but it would most probably never happen. I leaned against the wall of my room, staring out the window and into the forest. Green. Lots of green, even the very walls in which I was enclosed within, were green. It was a nice green though, quite similar to the colour of my eyes. I set my bag down on the wooden floor, and wandered about the room. It had only come to my attention as I walked towards the window that there was already a wardrobe in the room, a rather old, pine one. I was quizzing myself as to whether I had the nerve to open it. I suppose the adrenaline rush of the thought of a bloodied monster coming out and biting me on the nose made me want to open it. And I did. With my heart pumping, my breath coming heavy and fast, I pulled open the doors to reveal: nothing. My heart sank and I frowned; so much for a surprise.

Frustrated, I closed the doors of the wardrobe and proceeded in walking towards the window. The window was large, with a wide windowsill big enough for me to sit on and at that moment, I was glad it was there. I pulled myself up onto it and stared out the window. The garden was wild and overgrown although there were hints that someone had once gardened it; red roses lined the ricket fence that enclosed the perimeter. The rain battered down, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I had left a life that was almost perfect, bar the exception that I was always sulking, to come and live in a barren town with atrocious weather. I was to be finishing my last year of education in Forks High School; it was November so the year had already started. The part I wasn't exactly looking forward to was randomly walking into classes and having people whispering behind their hands and looking at me. The thought seemed very daunting. Bored with looking out at the miserable weather and not being able to do anything about it, I hopped down from the windowsill, grabbed my bag and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

As I jogged down the stairs, I could hear Mum and Dad talking in the kitchen. Or rather, my mother talking and my Dad nodding and agreeing with everything she said. I swiftly snatched up the keys to Dad's car from the small cabinet, and walked towards the kitchen door. My parents looked up at me as soon as I stopped in the doorway. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. 'Um – keys? – ' I waved my Dad's car keys in the air, he smiled and nodded in response. 'I thought I'd just take a drive around the town … see if I can find anything of interest,' I said, although that wasn't exactly the reason for me going – I just wanted to do something other than stare out a window.

Mum smiled sweetly at me, the one she smiles when she wants me to do something for her. 'Have fun, dear,' she said, expecting me to leave the room immediately. So I did. I waved goodbye and was about to walk towards the front door when she called after me. 'Ruby! Oh, Ruby, dear!' I could hear her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she ran to catch me before I walked out the door. I rolled my eyes, cursed quietly to myself and turned around, a fake smile on my face. 'Ruby, you wouldn't mind going to get a few things for me, would you?' I was about to reply when she cut me off. 'Good! There's a little supermarket down the road .. just about a mile from here,' she explained, holding a piece of paper in one of her hands and her purse in the other. I eyed the paper warily. 'Now. I've made you a little list of things to get – it's not much – oh, and here's some money.' This time she handed me the list and about a hundred dollars.

'Mum … I don't think I'll need this much,' I said, handing her back at least fifty. She obviously had enough money to throw around, because I certainly wouldn't trust anyone with a hundred dollars. That was when I almost dropped the list, but I caught it by one of the unfolded corners; that was when it started unravelling. 'You want me to get everything on this list?' I asked, staring back at her incredulously.

Mum nodded with an innocent smile. 'Well, we do need food, dear,' she said, handing me back the fifty dollars I had returned to her. I scowled, opened the door forcefully and began stalking down the path towards Dad's black Mercedes, the list and money in my hands. 'Do try and be quick, Ruby! We would like to have dinner before seven!' My mother shouted from the front door.

I growled, pulled open the door and sat down in front of the steering wheel before slamming the car door shut. 'Fuck you,' I swore, throwing the list and the hundred dollars onto the passenger seat. I was in the right mind to drive off with the car and the money and never come back. Fuming to myself, I put the keys in the ignition and turned the car on. Immediately some cheesy, pop song blasted out from the speakers. In the mood that I was in, I slammed my hand down on the power button causing silence once more. I stepped on the gas, not bothering to check for cars – not that I needed to anyway – and sped down the road. After driving at seventy miles per hour for ten minutes I found myself driving into a slightly more populated area, it still wasn't big though. Noticing speed the sign, I slowed down bringing the car to a crawling pace. I glanced around, there seemed to be quite a lot of people my age loitering about on the pavement. No that it mattered, it wasn't really one of my top priorities to make friends.

The supermarket looked strangely out of place when I drove into it's parking lot. The largeness and bulkiness of it's presence looked so peculiar in such a small town. Val's Supermarket seemed to be the gathering place for most of the town's residents. And I collected that by the emptiness of the parking lot, that most of them walked there. I carefully parked my Dad's car far away from any risks of getting driven into or getting a punctured tyre. I quickly glanced around and warily surveyed the large group of teenagers by the entrance of the supermarket. As soon as I had turned off the car, I grabbed the money, the list and my phone and stepped out of the car. After being careful to lock and unlock the car several times, I began to make my way across the parking lot, avoiding the looks I was getting from several of the people standing there.

Unfortunately for me, the trolley park was exactly where the large group of people my age where standing. So, bravely, I walked towards them. 'Excuse me,' I muttered, pushing past a rather tall guy. 'Sorry.' I murmured and quickly grabbed a trolley. Stupid enough as I was, I also had my phone in my hand, which unsuspectingly began to ring, making me jump and drop it in the process. 'Shit,' I hissed, ignoring the sniggers from behind me. I bent down and picked it up, cursing the person who was ringing me. With my face blood red, I pushed past the crowd of smirking teenagers with the trolley, the phone was still ringing in my hand. 'What?' I snarled down the phone, not caring who I was talking to.

'Aw Rubes, is the capital of cutlery really that bad?' the voice said, whose I immediately recognised as my brother, James. He thinks he's funny, but he's really not.

'It would be better if it would stop bloody raining!' I complained, as I pushed the trolley up the ramp and into the supermarket, holding the phone to my ear with my right hand. 'And … you called me at a very inappropriate time.' I subtly glanced back at the group, praying to God that they weren't in my year at Forks High.

James was silent for a moment before stating very seriously, 'What do you mean 'at a very inappropriate time'?' I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what the hell he was talking about, so I remained quiet. 'I never took you for the 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' type, Rubes. Who was he?'

'What the hell are you talking about, James?' I replied, the confusion clear in my voice. I stopped the trolley, pulled the list out of my back pocket before unfolding it and peering down at the list of food my mother wanted me to get. The majority of the list was filled with organic crap that I had never heard of.

James grunted in frustration. 'Who were you shaggin', Rubes?' he said more bluntly.

My eyes lit up – not at the thought of me shagging someone, might I add – I let out a tiny gasp. 'I was not shagging anyone! Do you honestly take me for the slutty type, James? Thanks a lot,' I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at his stupidity and pushing the trolley down the first aisle. 'And anyway, how could I have changed my personality overnight? It's not as if I'm going to try and fit in or anything.'

'No, you wouldn't do anything like that, would you?' James said, a taunting tone in his voice. 'Remember those goths a couple of years ago, Rubes?' I sighed loudly – he was never going to forget about my run-in with that specific stereotype. 'You looked great with that black lipstick,' he said, chuckling in amusement.

I narrowed my eyes and exhaled quickly. 'I was sincerely hoping that you would forget about that,' I said coldly, grabbing a packet of wholemeal pasta and throwing it into the trolley. 'Why did you ring me anyway?' I asked, curiously. He only normally rang me when either he needed something or when he was on the run from the law.

'Oh .. no reason,' James replied, a little too innocently for my liking. I snorted, voicing that I clearly didn't believe him. 'What? Oh, come on! I just wanted to ring you and see how you were getting on,' he explained, and funnily enough, I believed him.

'Well, it's nothing special put it that way,' I said, pushing the trolley down yet another aisle. I stopped in front of a couple of shelves of chocolate biscuits before looking down at the list. I frowned, there was nothing of the chocolate variety on it! 'The town is pretty small, and everyone seems to gather around the supermarket – which is where I am now,' I said, snorting at the list, putting it back in my pocket and immediately snatching a packet of bourbon cremes off the shelf.

James laughed. 'Doesn't sound too exciting,' he said rather glumly. I had to agree with him, from what I had seen of Forks. It was just a gloomy little town near Seattle. 'Well, maybe you'll make some friends, you never know. Or find yourself a guy,' he said, I could almost see him winking down the phone at me.

'Well, from what I've seen of them – they are too arrogant and stuck-up for my liking,' I said, throwing about four tins of sweetcorn into the trolley. 'I haven't met all of them – I haven't even been to school yet – maybe I'll have some luck there. But to be honest, James. I'm not even sure if I want friends,' I said carelessly, wheeling the trolley around to the frozen food aisles.

'You are such a weird child – who doesn't want friends?'

'Urgh – me,' I replied bluntly, reaching into the freezer and lifting out two packets of frozen organic vegetables. 'You do remember what happened with my last 'friends'. Actually, don't even start me on them – I'd just get mad and break something,' I said, glaring into thin air before pushing the trolley forward violently.

'Well, at least you're away from them now. You can start anew,' James said, almost wisely. I raised my eyebrow, either he was on crack or someone had finally knocked some sense into him. 'And so dawns a stunned silence – honestly Rubes, you might think I'm stupid, but I'm really not,' he said, sighing frustratedly.

'Yeah, right,' I said, remembering the night he came stumbling into my room at one o'clock in the morning, drunk might I add, when we lived in California, claiming that he came home in the Batmobile. 'Well, I'd better go, James. I have to be back by seven,' I said, absent-mindedly glancing down at my watch which now read half six. 'I'll talk to you later, yeah?' He mumbled in agreement. 'Bye James, love you.'

James laughed, 'You must really miss me, Rubes. Bye.'

I rolled my eyes, hung up and returned my phone to my back pocket. I grabbed the list once more, hoping that there wasn't much left to get; boy was I wrong. I swear, that woman must have thought up every bloody food that every existed, just to annoy me. I growled to myself and quickly pushed the trolley down the aisle, grabbing what I needed before moving on. Eventually, I reached the last two foods on the list; butter and milk. I glanced down at my watch, it was almost seven o'clock. I had spent so much of my time trying to find the food in the shop, and as I didn't know where half of it was, I spent most of it wandering around aimlessly.

Soon enough, I found myself walking down a cool aisle where sure enough, I found both the foods I had been looking for. I studied the list; three pints of milk and one large packet of butter. I grabbed the butter first, throwing it ungracefully into the trolley. I left the trolley sitting at one side of the aisle whilst I jogged over – almost tripping over my feet – towards the milk on the other side. Deciding that it wasn't that far to walk, I grabbed all three pints of milk in my hands and began walking over to the other side. It was just my luck that I didn't realise that my lace was undone. I lost my footing, and tripped, causing one of the pints of milk to leap out of my grasp. My heart almost jumped out of my throat as I watched it tumble towards the ground. It made contact with the floor with a deafening smash. It didn't help that the supermarket was completely silent. I closed my eyes and wished the floor would just swallow me up. 'Aw fuck,' I muttered, opening my eyes to see the milk seeping all over the red tiled floor.

I carefully set the two undamaged pints of milk into the trolley and grabbed the packet of kitchen roll that I had set in there earlier. I quickly ripped open the packaging, got down on my knees and began to mop it up. I cursed and swore quietly to myself about my clumsiness and the smell of milk. Ever since I was little, the smell of milk had made me gag; I would never drink it and I haven't since I vomited after drinking it when I was five. I held my breath, and continued to wipe the milk up. Much to my dismay, the milk had ran across the whole width of the aisle. I groaned and ripped some more paper towels off the roll.

'Are you okay?' a voice said behind me. I gasped, and almost jumped out of my skin. I was scared, not only because of the sudden surprise, but because of the reaction this person might give over the mess I had made. I glanced over my shoulder to see a very tall guy, about my age, with russet coloured skin and dark black hair. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,' he said, looking slightly apologetic.

I stared at him, before inhaling deeply. 'That's okay,' I squeaked, and turned back to mopping up the now sour milk. I was surprised at how tall he was, it was almost abnormal. I'm sure he could easily be about six foot four, which is shocking compared to my seemingly normal five foot six.

'Here, I'll help you,' the very tall guy said, kneeling down beside me. I glanced sideways and looked at him strangely. Clearly he was nothing like the people I had walked past outside. He took the roll of kitchen paper and ripped a couple of sheets off – it took me a while before I realised what he was doing.

My mouth made an 'o' shape and I inhaled rather quickly, almost choking myself. I spluttered in a rather rude fashion. 'Oh, no … it's fine – really,' I said, recovering quickly. He didn't move and I looked over at him, giving him a peculiar look. 'Honestly .. it's fine.'

He shrugged loosely. 'I don't mind,' he said, as if brushing off any hints that he should get the fuck away. I continued to watch him with my eyebrow raised. 'You're new around here, aren't you?' he asked, looking sideways at me – I quickly tore my gaze away from him but nodded. 'I'm Embry, by the way. Embry Call,' he said, holding out his very large hand for me to shake.

I looked at his hand for a moment before glancing up to see him watching me strangely. The corners of my mouth twisted up into an awkward smile and I took his hand in my own. I think I must have gasped out loud because he quickly tore his hand away. His hand was so warm, and not 'I've just been for an intense workout' warm – it was abnormally hot. 'I – um – I'm Ruby,' I said quickly, making up for my mistake of gasping loudly. 'Ruby Ca – Ruby Taylor.' I could have slapped myself; I almost said his last name – not my own. I think he had realised what I was going to say, because out of the corner of my eye I saw him smirk to himself.

'Nice to meet you, Ruby Ca – Ruby Taylor,' Embry said mockingly. I blinked incredulously before staring wide eyed at the floor. Embry was increasingly reminding me of James, not that it was a good thing. 'Hey, you don't look old enough to be out of school yet. You going to Forks High?' he asked me, obviously trying to divert me from thinking about the 'joke' he had made.

I found myself reminding myself that I had told myself that I wasn't going to make friends. But it was hard not to talk to someone who seemed that they could make a conversation up with themselves. I continued to mop up the floor – which was nearly cleaned. 'Um – yeah, I am,' I said, in a tone that showed that I couldn't care less. 'I'm starting tomorrow actually.'

'Cool – Me and my friends Quil and Seth go there too,' Embry said, throwing a sodden kitchen towel into the pile of ones we had used. 'But Seth is two years younger,' he added, getting to his feet. Great, I thought I myself, I'm being forced to make friends now. I glanced up to see him holding out his hand for me. Nervous of my reaction, I took it and he pulled me up effortlessly.

'Thanks,' I said, brushing off my skinny jeans and glancing up gratefully. 'Oh, and thanks for helping me – you really didn't need to,' I said, pointing to the now clean floor before us. I smiled to myself before wandering over to the trolley.

Embry followed me and began to walk beside me. 'No problem, I was happy to help,' Embry said with a shrug of his shoulders. There was an awkward silence between us as we walked to the till. 'I forget what I came in here for … oh yeah – cake!' he said suddenly, making me jump in surprise. He seemed to do that to me quite frequently. 'Hey, it was nice meeting you, Ruby,' he said, patting me on the back and waving as he ran off down one of the aisles before I could say goodbye.

I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head as if I had been dreaming the whole thing. I piled everything up on the conveyor belt and paid for all the groceries. It came to ninety four dollars and five cents – it was a good thing my Mum had given me that hundred dollars. After I had put everything in cardboard boxes, I put them back into the trolley and wheeled the trolley out of the supermarket. It was dark outside and I pushed the trolley quickly across the parking lot. There was a loud laugh from behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to see Embry running across the parking lot towards a red car. I shot my gaze towards the car and stared straight into the eyes of one of his friends. If I hadn't of tore my gaze away I would have crashed the trolley into my Dad's dearly beloved car. I glanced back, confused, but the red car was already speeding out of the parking lot and out of sight.

After unloading the trolley, I quickly returned it to the trolley park before rushing back to the car and getting in. I sighed, tired from my trek around the supermarket. I rubbed my eyes before putting the keys in the ignition and turning the engine on. The soft purr of the engine made me smile; I glanced at the clock on the dashboard – that smile faded. It was almost twenty past seven. I sighed and rolled my eyes and prepared myself for another one of my mother's speeches on how impossible I can be.

**Hmmm .. What do you think? Should I continue it? Well, you see, I really, really wanted to do an imprint story and I had some ideas in my head so I decided to write them down and see how it went. It'll get better, it's only the beginning anyway - and it's far better than my other Twilight story which i am thinking of abandoning. Anyway, REVIEWS are very much appreciated, along with feedback on whether I should continue or not. So, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Tori xo**

**Also, I have links to actors and actresses of who I think all the characters in this story look like on my profile, so take a look, if you want!**

**P.S You're gonna have to ignore Breaking Dawn altogether for this story to work OR pretend Jacob's sister Rachel doesn't exist (:**


	2. Black Out

Chapter Two

The first morning at our new house was a bit of a chaotic affair. After arguing with my mother about who should get to use the bathroom first – it was my first day at Forks High and I wasn't going to go smelling of sweat – Dad finally intervened. Mother gave in, huffing and puffing about how she needed her hot early morning shower more than I did. I obviously didn't agree. Sleeping on the floor, wrapped up in an old blanket the night before didn't help. My hair was more dishevelled than normal and I looked like I hadn't slept in a hundred years. I was glad that after a long, hot, ten minute shower; I finally felt clean. Normally people would be freaking out at starting a new school – they would make sure their hair and make-up was perfect and they wore their best clothes. I on the other hand wore a pair of grubby, grey, skinny jeans, a tight fitted, yellow, vest top and a black button-up cardigan. Nothing out of the ordinary – I was hoping to blend in. Jogging down the stairs, my messenger bag bumping against my thigh, I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Dad was leaning against the counter, a mug of tea clasped tightly in his hand. I nodded good morning – Dad mumbled back; he wasn't a morning person. I began to rummage around in the cupboards, another flaw of living in a new house – you never knew were everything was kept. After about five minutes opening and closing cupboard doors, I managed to find something un-organic and not fat free: pancakes. This was no doubt something my Dad had smuggled into the house. I glanced up at him and he was smirking impishly. And so, after quickly savouring my roughly made breakfast, I glanced at my watch; it was almost time for me to endure the joys of starting a new school.

I said goodbye to my Dad; it was nothing verbal – just a wave. Bidding my mother goodbye was a lost cause; she was in the shower draining away all the hot water. We don't talk as much any more, Mum, Dad and me. Ever since James moved out there's silence at the dinner table and we can barely stand to be in the same room as each other. I suppose there is nothing to talk about, but normal parents would ask their child about school, hobbies and whatnot. Dad does occasionally, at least he attempts to – Mum on the other hand, well, it seems that no one matters more than herself. That doesn't bother me, but the fact that Dad doesn't see it, does. I made my way towards the porch, grabbing the keys to my Dad's Mercedes, which I was now claiming as my own as I would be using it most. He even brought it up when I retreated from my room for a midnight snack the night before – he was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, staring at the floor – he basically told me that it was mine until further notice. I ignored the further notice part, not wanting to know what it meant. As soon as I opened the door I was greeted by grey clouds and rain. I glanced down at the clothes I was wearing, they seemed suitable for the rain, but a coat of some sort would be much more beneficial – too bad I didn't own one. That was when I made a note to myself to go out and buy one after school; I was for living in this rainy residence after all.

The drive wasn't as maddening as it had been the night before. Maybe the fact that my mother hadn't pissed me off and the music station had been switched over to a more tasteful channel, contributed to that. It didn't take me long to find Forks High, the sign sort of gave it away, but I couldn't see the actual building – it was shielded by bushes, and trees. I drove rather cautiously towards the first building I saw which donned the sign; Front Office. Not noticing until I got out of the car that I was the only one parked there, I simply shrugged it off and began to make my way towards the door. The first thing I was hit by was the surprising warmth, not to mention the vibrant yellow walls. The office was rather small, the walls donned flyers and notices, and the floor was covered in an orange flecked carpet. I walked rather sheepishly into the middle of the room towards the counter. Behind the counter, there were three desks and countless filing cabinets. It was almost deadly quiet, I felt as though if I breathed heavily enough the ginger haired woman who was sitting at one of the desks, would notice my presence. 'Um – excuse me?' I said, though it almost came out in a whisper.

The woman looked up from her work, that was when I noticed she was wearing glasses rather similar to the ones my mother used to wear. 'Can I help you, dear?' she asked, in a tone that my mother would use to bribe me into doing something. I blinked precariously, this woman was increasingly reminding me of my mother.

'I'm Ruby Taylor. I – I just moved here,' I said, hoping that she had been informed of my transfer to this particular school. She looked at me curiously for a while before she began rustling through the mountain of paperwork on her desk. She got up from her chair – it was the swivelling kind, the ones I find most amusing – and she walked over to the counter with a few sheets of paper in her hands.

She set the papers down on the counter for me to see. 'Now, I have here, your schedule and a map of the school – just in case you get lost,' she said, with a small smile. Then she began going through my classes for me, and showing me the best way to get to them on the map. She handed me the map and schedule, advising me to keep them safe and then she handed me several slips, which I was to give to each teacher and they were to sign it. The slips were then to be returned to her at the end of the day. She smiled once she had given me everything I needed. 'Good luck, and have a nice day,' she said, as I made my way out the door.

Getting back into _my_ Mercedes, I glanced behind me, not knowing where to go. I was sure enough that you weren't allowed to park by the front office – I was the only one there. I waited for a while, surveying the map until more cars began to arrive. I turned on the car, swung it around and followed the same red car that I had seen last night, the one Embry had jumped into. Driving into the student parking lot, I immediately noticed that my car was probably the most conspicuous. I tried to keep my eyes on the road, rather than looking into the eyes of the teenagers staring at me _and_ my car. I was beginning to wish that I hadn't claimed the car as my own now. I parked the car in the first available space I could find, cutting off the engine immediately. After putting every sheet that the lady at the office had given me into my bag, I got out of the car, swung my bag over my shoulder and locked the door. As I walked across the parking lot, it seemed as though I was attracting all the attention – that was something I hadn't wanted to happen. So I kept my head down and began to walk towards the building in front of me, listening to everyone's conversations around me. It wasn't exactly eavesdropping; they were hard to ignore.

'Who's that?'

'Must be a new girl, I've never seen her before.'

'What _is_ she wearing? Doesn't she own a coat?' I rolled my eyes – why would I own a coat if I formerly lived in California where it barely ever rained. This is going to be extremely gratifying, I thought to myself sarcastically. I'll be constantly battling the fashion pretentious barbie dolls about my dress sense, and getting odd looks every time I wear something normal.

'You have spoken to her before, haven't you?'

'Yes, but – '

'Well make friends with her or something! I can't walk up to her and go: Hey! I really like you, wanna go out sometime? I've never even spoke to her before!'

'Listen, man. I know it's hard, but she seems like a nice girl she wouldn't just blow you off.'

'You don't know that.'

'Hey!' I had to halt abruptly to stop myself walking straight into the person who had plucked up the nerve to talk to me. Not to mention, I was rather irritated because I was content listening in to that rather heated conversation. I blinked furiously, before looking up to see a rather gangly looking girl with glasses, braces and an annoyingly stupid grin. 'You're the new girl, aren't you?' she said, I eyed her carefully. If I had to make friends, she wasn't exactly what I was looking for – and I wasn't being rude.

'Yes,' I said rather bluntly and continued to walk, hoping she'd get the hint. I looked up at the wall on the building – I needed to find Biology, it was my first class. I didn't dare look behind me, she might have been following my every step. And if she was, I'd have to tell her stalkerish people aren't my type. Suddenly I felt someone breathing heavily, as they were looking over my shoulder.

'Biology is to the left and up the stairs,' that very same voice said. I cringed. If she was going to follow me like a lost dog, she should have said so, rather than jumping up on me at every available moment. 'I'm Mauve. Mauve Higgins,' she said, holding out her hand which was home to a countless number of colourful rings.

I examined her hand for a moment before I glanced up at her. She was at least six foot something, pale skin and wearing clothes that the pretentious barbies would be ashamed of. 'Nice to meet you,' I said, though that wasn't the case. I brushed past her, and began to walk towards the stairs at the end of the hallway. I was still getting stared at, but I didn't care. All that I cared about was getting rid of this … leech, that wanted to be by my side at all times, unaware that I was trying to dismiss her.

'So what's your name?' that annoying voice that belonged to Mauve Higgins said. I growled and began to walk up the stairs. Maybe if I ignored her, she would leave me alone. And that's what I did, until she asked me again and I was just getting the feeling that she was about to leave me alone. I was either going to have to be harsh and tell her to piss off and leave me alone, or, tell her my name and ignore her for the rest of the day.

'Ruby,' I finally answered, and I didn't even look at her. I continued to walk up the stairs, until finally I was on the right floor – as Mauve pointed out. I walked slowly, much to her annoyance, she seemed eager to power walk ahead but didn't want to walk too fast in case I lost her. I dragged my converses along the ground on purpose, slowing my walking pace down even further.

'You don't look like a Ruby,' Mauve piped up suddenly. I glanced sidewards at her, irritated that she doubted me suiting my name – which I liked. It was my Dad that had named me, James had helped. Mum had insisted in calling me; Marie-Jane, but apparently Dad wrote Ruby down on my birth certificate. 'I would have though that Rubys had red hair; you don't. You have dark, honey blonde sort of hair. I thought you would have been called Sarah, or Melissa, maybe even Lauren.'

I glowered, and growled to myself but I was sure she heard me. 'My name is _Ruby_,' I hissed rather vehemently, picking up my walking speed and leaving her to ponder until she finally realised that I had walked off on her. I could hear her shoes clacking along the tiled floor behind me, she didn't sound like much of a runner – too bad I was. I glanced behind me subtly before I took off quicker than she could have said hello to a new student. I sprinted down the hallway, receiving rather peculiar looks from the other teenagers; I didn't care. It was rather childish, running away from her, but it seemed to be working. The buzz was incredible; it felt surprisingly good to get away from her. I didn't intend to be mean, but she was getting annoying. I was in such a daze that I ran past the classroom in which my Biology class was held. I skidded to a halt and quickly walked back towards the door – which was open.

The room itself was quite small, with aisles of black-topped lab tables. The teacher; Mrs Bannerman, looked like quite a sweet old lady who reminded me of a Gran that would make you cookies and knit you sweaters. The class was already half full and some of the seats were taken; I immediately noticed Embry sitting near the back with someone who I presumed to be his friend Quil. Sitting at the table to the right of them, might have been his friend, Seth. But I dismissed that idea as Embry had mention that Seth was two years younger than them. I pulled my gaze away from the strangely familiar eyes, smiled feebly at Mrs Bannerman and shuffled over to her quickly. 'I'm Ruby Taylor – I'm new here,' I explained quietly, not wanting the rest of the class to hear.

'Nice to meet you, Ruby,' Mrs Bannerman said loudly, before turning to face the rest of the class. They were all sitting patiently, waiting. 'This is Ruby Taylor, she's going to be a new member of this class and I hope you all treat her well,' she said, finishing with a broad smile. The rest of the class seemed to have donned smug smiles or were stifling giggles. I stared wide-eyed at her. I wished I could have died there and then. She turned back to me with an expectant look. 'Do you have a slip for me to sign?' she asked. I nodded and dug a small paper slip out of my back pocket before handing it to her. She quickly signed it with a scribble of a signature before handing it back to me; I placed it carefully in the small front pocket of my bag. 'Now wait there, I have some books for you,' she said, disappearing into a door just behind her. She emerged with two very large books in her hands. 'Here you are – make sure and bring them with you every class. Now … why don't you go and sit down there beside, Mauve.'

My eyes, I'm sure, bulged out of my head – I hadn't even seen her come in. I opened my mouth and stared at the seat beside the gangly girl who had been following me earlier. She was grinning up at me, an overly excited look on her face. 'Um – ' I gulped, 'M-Mauve?' I repeated, glancing at Mrs Bannerman for conformation.

'Yes, dear,' Mrs Bannerman replied, nodding as well. 'See the girl there with the glasses – ' she pointed straight at Mauve who was grinning, her braces glinting in the light, ' – she's sitting just in front of Embry and Quil – the two big guys there – ' she nodded towards them, they were also grinning.

I laughed, although, not because it was funny – it was just my luck. I paused for a moment, before glancing briefly at Mrs Bannerman. 'Uh – right – thanks,' I said, trudging past her, the heavy books weighing me down. I walked down the aisle closest, keeping my gaze on my destination. I eventually made it to the desk where Mauve was sitting, she smiled up at me and I managed a small crooked smile. 'Um – you couldn't …' I gestured to the small space between her chair and the front of Embry and Quil's desk. She nodded enthusiastically before pulling her chair in quickly, causing a loud ungodly screech to echo through the room. I cringed and glanced heavenward before squeezing myself past her chair and throwing my books down on the table with a loud thump.

'Hi Ruby,' Mauve said cheerfully, gazing at me as I sat down on the chair beside her. I grunted a reply, not bothering to make it translatable. I pulled the chair in, sighed, rested my elbow on the tabletop and began to attempt to listen to Mrs Bannerman explaining the composition of blood. That was something I had already went over with my Biology teacher the year before. 'I'm so glad you're my lab partner, Ruby. This year will be so much fun,' she said, spraying spit over the table.

My expression remained dull. 'I'm sure it'll be bloody fantastic, Mauve,' I replied, thinking the exact opposite. If she continued to blabber on in my ear, I swear I would have her strangled by the end of the year. Realising that everyone else in the class was either taking notes or listening very attentively to Mrs Bannerman, I reached down to my bag and grabbed my file pad. I pulled a pen out of the front pocket and began to jot down a few notes.

'Ruby?' Mauve asked, her annoying voice stinging my ear as she leant closer to me. I took a glance sidewards and she was practically leaning against me. I subtly moved myself further away from her. 'You look like the type of girl that has had a boyfriend, right?' I almost swallowed my pen that I had been chewing on the end of; I choked. I heard a quiet chuckle coming from behind me, but I didn't bother to glance back. I glanced at her and she was looking out of the corner of her eye at something behind us. 'Well,' she said, looking me in the eye with great concern. 'This guy keeps looking at me – ' she took a deep, dramatic breath, '– and, I don't know what to do. I mean, I've liked him for a while now and I think maybe he likes me back.' She studied my face for a reaction as I attempted not to smile. This was obviously going to be a sensitive subject, so I decided to be nice – seeing as she looked like she'd never even spoken to a guy before.

'Well,' I began seriously, trying my hardest to keep a straight face, 'What's his name?' I bit my lip to stop a smile forming as I watched her swoon and attempt not to giggle girlishly.

Finally she let out a giggle and quickly brought her hand up to her mouth to stop anyone from hearing her. She grinned broadly, almost letting out a spasm of joy. She moved closer to me and sighed in my ear – to my disgust – before she paused. 'Paul,' she then whispered, and let out a quiet giggle again.

I almost laughed at her giddiness. She seemed to be a total virgin to the butterfly effect. I was curious to find out who this Paul was – curiosity killed the cat – but this cat has nine lives. 'So what does he look like?' I asked her interestedly, but I kept my gaze on the board where Mrs Bannerman was still rambling on.

She smiled, in a strangely mischievous way and glanced over my shoulder. She stared, dazed for a while before glancing back and staring into my eyes. 'He's sitting behind us,' she whispered and I glanced behind us to see Embry wiggling his eyebrows at me. 'No – not him,' Mauve snapped impatiently, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face the front. I must admit, I felt rather affronted by her actions. 'He's sitting over _there,'_ she nodded her head towards the left, the desk sitting diagonally from where I was sitting.

Feeling brave, I quickly glanced over my shoulder; another russet skinned giant was sitting causally, his legs stretched out under the table. I turned my head back, before suddenly glancing back, recognising his face from somewhere. This time I met eye contact with him; he had light brown – almost golden – eyes and a small, friendly smile was playing on the corner of his lips. Instantly I noticed my mouth was open so I snapped it shut. I blinked a couple of times before snapping out of my daze and turning my head back to the front quickly. I kept my gaze on the page in front of me, though I couldn't help but smile, the vision of him sitting so casually playing over and over in my head. I shook my head – boys were the enemy – they cheat and lie. That's from my experiences anyway. I couldn't let one look at a good-looking guy – who was probably like every other guy I've been with – ruin my theory.

'Well?' Mauve asked me suddenly, tugging on my arm which I had resting on the table.

I quickly tore my arm away, and glanced at her, a disturbed look on my face. 'Well what?'

'So, Miss Taylor, what are the three main contents of white blood cells?' Mrs Bannerman's, seemingly sweet but manipulating voice echoed through the classroom. I snapped my attention to the front, my mouth open slightly, the question playing over in my head. From the corner of my eye I saw Paul sit up straight in his chair and rest his elbows on the desk.

I inhaled deeply, leaving my mouth open. 'Um – ' I gulped, ' – Neutrophil, Lymphosite and Monocyte,' I said, although I wasn't purely confident that it was right. I watched Mrs Bannerman as she stared back at me, a smile was threatening on the corners of her lips.

'And what are their functions?' Mrs Bannerman asked. I blinked, slightly annoyed that my first answer wasn't enough to satisfy her, but then again, I had been talking in her class.

I knew the answer, it wasn't hard to forget after having it practically drilled into my brain by my former Biology teacher, Mr Hains. He was a scary man, class tests were the norm and if you didn't get above eighty per cent; detention for a week. 'The Neutrophil engulfs and digests bacteria; the Lymphosite produces antibodies and the Monocyte detects infections,' I said, with an innocent smile once I had finished reciting the answer. The two girls from the row in front turned around and stared at me; slightly disgusted looks were etched upon their faces.

'Very good, Miss Taylor,' Mrs Bannerman said, and began once more to ramble on about unnecessary facts of the white blood cells.

The class dragged on, I glanced at the clock; surely I hadn't that long to wait until the end. There was easily fifteen minutes left and from then on I was in nothing but a daydream. I watched Mrs Bannerman's mouth formed words, but I heard nothing. That was until Mauve shoved me with her elbow – an attempt to wake me from my daydream – making me jump and almost topple off my seat. There was a sudden scrape of a chair behind me as I wobbled, but as I regained my balance, I glanced around to identify where the noise had come from. Paul was feeling around on the floor; presumably looking for pen he had dropped. 'So,' Mauve began, I saw her take a sneaky peek at Paul over my shoulder, 'He's gorgeous, isn't he?' she said, not bothering to look away from him.

I smirked, and was almost begging him in my head to look over and notice Mauve staring longingly at him. I saw Mauve glance at me out of the corner of my eye; it seemed that she was expecting me to confirm that she was right about his 'gorgeousness'. I sucked on my bottom lip, humming thoughtfully before shrugging and sighing, 'I suppose you could say that.'

'Well,' Mauve said, all of a sudden sounding very serious. 'I'm going to apologise now – just in case you take a sudden liking to him – ' I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced to see her sitting up straight in her chair looking very business-like and sincere. ' – I think he – um – likes _me_, so I hope you don't, like – well, you're probably not like that anyway – you seem _really _nice and everything. But I just – I just wouldn't want you to _steal him away from me_ or anything,' she said, looking me in the eye. I felt the urge to laugh in her face, but thought that would be rather insensitive of me.

I opened my mouth to speak, and even then I couldn't stop smiling. I turned my head away and looked towards the floor, still smiling – this girl was insane! I had only met her and she was already pouring her hearts desires out to me, not to mention she thought I was going to steal Paul from her grasp. She wasn't wrong about his appearance though, he was strangely good-looking – and I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I shook my head and bit my lip, laughing quietly to myself before turning back to Mauve. 'I –' I couldn't help myself, I laughed again but suddenly realised what I had done and quickly shut my mouth. 'I – I wouldn't do anything like that, Mauve.'

Mauve grinned widely; you would have thought that Paul had got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. The girl was madly infatuated, I would have thought that she would have been more interested in books rather than boys. Well, I was wrong. 'Thanks Ruby,' she said, nodding her head and sighing. 'You're a really good person.'

I smiled and turned away, afraid that I was going to laugh in her face. 'Yeah. Right,' I muttered to myself, and glanced up to see that Mrs Bannerman had wrote what looked to be our homework, up on the board. I grabbed my pen and began to scribble down a reminder. When I had finished, as if right on time, the bell ran and there was a chorus of chairs scraping against the black tiled floor. In a hurry not to be late for my next class, I picked up my bag and stuffed my file pad into my bag. I got out of my chair and pushed it in.

'Hey – um – you dropped your pen,' a low husky voice said. I glanced up to see Paul standing at the end of my desk, then glanced down to see my red pen in his hand. From the corner of my eye I could see Mauve almost hyperventilating.

I looked up at him and smiled feebly. He was even more handsome close up; it was rather intimidating. Once again, my eyes overrule my brain – but the theory still stands. 'Thanks,' I said, glancing between his face and the pen before taking it from his hand. 'Uh – I – I'm Ruby,' I said, stammering slightly. I was almost getting as giddy as Mauve, and I was ever so surprised she hadn't fainted by now.

'Mrs Bannerman seemed to make that pretty obvious,' Paul said, chuckling quietly. He almost looked nervous to be speaking to me, I don't know why, I could hardly do him any harm – he was huge.

'Yeah, and embarrass me in front of the whole class,' I said rather bashfully. From out of the corner of my eye I could see Mauve trying to get my attention. I glanced at her, confused. She widened her eyes and glanced blatantly between myself and Paul. I sighed to myself and glanced back at Paul. 'Um – this – this is Mauve,' I said, nodding towards her and glancing back at Paul with a rather awkward look on my face.

He smiled and seemed to have realised that I hadn't informed him of her name on my own accord. 'Hey Mauve,' he said, nodding his head slightly. Mauve smiled back at him, her braces in full view and batting her eyelids.

'Yeah – well – um – I gotta go to my next class,' I said, wanting to get out of this awkward situation. I might have come across as rude but I brushed past Paul and stopped beside him at the end of the desk. I was sure I looked like a dwarf beside him. 'See you around,' I said to him and Mauve who was almost drooling. I waved slightly, turned around and made my way to the front of the classroom.

'Er – wait – um, I'm Paul by the way,' Paul called after me rather urgently. His hand was in the air, and he seemed to notice me staring at it, so he every so subtly bent his elbow and began to scratch the back of his head.

I couldn't help but smile at his embarrassed expression and I had to bite my lip to stop myself laughing. 'Nice to meet you, Paul,' I replied, glancing towards the open door and the crowds of teenagers in the hallway. I quickly looked back at him; he was smiling to himself. 'I'll see you around,' I said before joining the stream of people walking towards the stairs. In this distance, I swore I heard him call back 'yeah, sure', but I wasn't certain.

The rest of the morning went by fairly quickly, and I surprised myself by actually speaking to the girl I sat beside in Art and Design – she also happened to be in my French class. She had blonde hair, a tanned complexion and was around the same height as me. Her name was Brie – you know, like the cheese. She seemed to be quite friendly, though I considered her very brave for actually speaking to me as I was assuming I looked quite hostile. Or, perhaps I didn't look unfriendly at all, maybe this was something I needed to work on. But the thing was, I didn't want to be unfriendly. I just didn't want to get knuckled down into a tightly knitted group of people who knew everything about each other. In Art, we were assigned coursework which was to be done in pairs, this meant I was going to have to meet up with Brie sometime out of school. Clearly my intention of not making friends wasn't working out too well. Much to my relief, neither my Art and Design teacher nor my French teacher made me stand up and introduce myself. But like Mrs Bannerman, Mr Nutt – my French teacher, made it quite clear to the class what my name was. For the rest of that morning I didn't see Mauve – or Paul for that matter. Embry and Quil weren't in any of my other classes either. After my two classes, Brie and her friend Sophie showed me the way to the cafeteria where they suggested that I sat with them. Seeing as I had no one else to sit with – unless annoyingly infatuated Mauve dragged me off to sit by her – I agreed, and sat at the end of a long table of their friends. I sat beside a guy who Brie introduced as Mark; he was her cousin. He seemed pretty nice, and asked me a couple of questions about myself, but kept the small-talk minimal. Lunch was average; I got a muffin, an apple and a bottle of water. This got Brie talking about how I didn't eat very much, thus leading to a conversation about the cafeteria food in general. I sat, nodding in agreement and occasionally offering my opinion.

After lunch, I made my way to the Music corridor for my hour-long class. I was quite surprised at how developed the corridor was. I was expecting a simple piano room, several classrooms and maybe a recording studio. It had all of that and another recording studio and a very well staged rehearsal studio. I was impressed. My Music teacher, Miss Sawyer, I'm sure was barely out of school and looked more like a student rather than a teacher. But that made her more approachable, she appeared to understand that I didn't want to be introduced in front of everyone. It was a rather personal Music class at the beginning. Miss Sawyer sat with me and asked me about my musical interests and if I played any instruments. She obviously took pride in her job. She was practically thrilled when I told her that I played the piano and occasionally sang. But when she suggested that I sang for the class, the look of death I gave her seemed to quieten her down. The general mood of the class was very relaxed and was constructed of mostly working on your own or in pairs to compose a piece of music. I was somewhat disenchanted when the bell rang, insinuating the end of class. I had almost finished composing a piece of music to play on the piano, about ten more minutes would have finished it off. But nevertheless I packed my things away and made for my last class which was P.E in the Gym. I was surprised at how much I had enjoyed Music, maybe it was the fact that I spoke to no one and was left to work on my own – independently.

I made my way to the girls locker rooms quite sufficiently, considering I had only been at the school for a day. There I met the antagonistic, intimidating Coach Clapp, who found me a uniform and directed through the door of the girls locker room. I got changed into the scratchy, uncomfortable uniform which consisted of blue shorts that were too short for me, and a white t-shirt that made my breasts look humongous. I made a mental note to bring my sports bra with me every day I had P.E. So, as a make-shift sports bra, I wore my yellow vest-top underneath. I was one of the last girls to make it out of the locker room, well, I had the excuse of the slight hold up; it took Coach Clapp at least five minutes to find me a relatively decent uniform. Nervous, I made my way to the Gym, peering through the glass in the door before entering. Mixed classes. Volleyball. The volleyball I was looking forward to; I used to play a lot when I lived in California. But the thought of playing it with guys when I looked like some sort of hooker, made me cringe. Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door and jogged towards where the class was gathered. As I listened to Coach Clapp rambling on, I could feel myself absent-mindedly pulling down my shorts – I might as well have walked out in my underwear. Soon, Coach Clapp had us sorted into four seven a-side teams. I was handed a green bib and found myself on Embry's team. There were two other girls on the team, both who I recognised to be in my French class, though, I couldn't remember their names. They stood at one side of the court, speaking very intensely whilst I stood in front of the net; my usual position.

'Can I just say – you look very lonely,' a voice surveyed suddenly. I glanced sideways to see a very muscled shoulder, and glancing up I saw Embry smiling down at me. It felt weird to be short – now I know how people shorter than me feel. It makes you feel timid, and somewhat weak.

'Just because I'm on my own doesn't mean to say I'm lonely,' I responded, with a small smile. And what I said was entirely true, I valued my alone time. It gave me time to think, to creep into my own world. I found it nicer than having to share everything with everyone.

Embry made a face of agreement to what I had said, and turned his gaze towards the net in front of us. He was probably taller than it. 'You played volleyball before then?' he asked, out of interest obviously – or tactics. If I answered that I had never played before he would most probably put me in the middle of the court. That way everyone around me could take over if they had to. But that wasn't the case.

I nodded, 'When I lived in California – um – I guess I played it nearly every day,' I said, making it sound like it was no big deal. 'I like to play by the net,' I said, gesturing to how close I was to the net which separated the two teams.

'Ooh – So you like spiking then.' It wasn't a question; he seemed to have evaluated me quite well.

I smiled, though in a rather mischievous manner before shrugging. 'Yeah,' I replied, looking up and noticing that the other team appeared to be ready to play.

Coach Clapp's shrill whistle echoed through the room and Embry left my side to situate himself behind me slightly. The first game was fairly evenly matched, and it was obvious that I wasn't the weak link of the team. It seemed that one of the girls from my French class, was almost afraid of the ball meaning that we were supposed to feel like we had a man down – but Embry could have counted as two people. We battled on. I managed a couple of good spikes; earning our team a few points. I also nearly lost my head when a very tall guy spiked the ball towards me, it was a good thing I ducked. In the end it came down to Embry's leadership to guide us to a win – if it hadn't been for him doing all the communicating we probably would have lost. The second game was a bit of an annihilation. The opposite team consisted of four uncoordinated girls and three guys who looked like they'd rather be in the library. It made me wonder whether Coach Clapp had mixed the teams fairly enough. It was quite a boring match – so boring that Embry thought it would be funny to hoist me on his shoulders and make me do all the returning. I must admit, I was quite shocked when he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me like I was a child. I barely knew him! And even after I demanded to be put down on countless occasions, he just _laughed _and continued running around the court.

Coach Clapp then insinuated us to rotate around once the fifteen minutes was up; winners versus winners, losers versus losers. Our team made our way over to the other court, and immediately after surveying the players on their team, the walk to my preferred side of the court began to appear more daunting. They were tall, athletic and looked like they meant business. Embry's friend Quil was standing at the back, along with a tall, blonde haired girl. Paul was also on the team, though I was surprised to see it, he was standing by the net. But he wasn't my opponent. My opponent was a girl with her dark brown hair tied back in a pony-tail and wearing shorter shorts than I was, but I was pretty sure that they were like that intentionally. She would have appeared to be a nice person, if she wasn't glaring at me. The saying, if looks could kill, flashed across my mind. She must have been trying to intimidate me, but it wasn't working. I raised an eyebrow and stared back into her brown eyes. Yes, I'm the new girl – no need to send a deathly glare my way just because I'm new. Or maybe she thought I was a threat, I mused over that thought.

The game began rather smoothly at first – then it got rough. I often found myself dodging the ball as it was spiked to the ground. The girl who was also at the net for our team – Emma, I found her name to be – wasn't having a good time either. It was only when I let out a slight whimper after nearly getting skinned by the ball that my opponent had hit, that Embry offered to swap with me. I gladly took his spot further back in the court. After five minutes, and deciding he preferred being back in the court, I was put back in my original position. Agitated at the fact that 'the new girl basher' thought she was getting one over on me, I decided that I would play as nasty as her. The first time the ball came within my reach, I slammed it hard with my fist towards the ground, straight in front of 'the new girl basher's' feet. I saw her fists clench first, then glanced up to see her almost snarling at me; I simply smiled back sweetly. That got her angry, and the strange thing was her anger seemed to radiate towards me – and me only. I think she must really hate me. The play continued; Paul constantly warning 'the new girl basher' who's name was Charlotte, to calm down. But that didn't stop her from glaring at me and trying to break my skull by sending stray strikes at me.

I growled. I was hot, sweaty and irritated. Charlotte had annoyed me so much that I was determined to make sure that they didn't win – or at least strike a ball at her, knocking her unconscious. Once again, I dodged a stray ball that she had aimed at me. 'What is your problem?' I hissed, before lobbing the ball over the net.

'You,' Charlotte snarled back. She was standing in a stance that reminded me of a predator preparing to attack its prey. I was the prey.

I narrowed my eyes and watched the ball fly over my head before glancing back at her. 'Well, I'm sorry – but I can't seem to grasp why,' I replied acidly, watching her as she aimed to strike the ball. I smirked as an ingenious idea popped into my head. I coughed loudly in an attempt to put her off – and it did, she missed but managed to lob the ball up. I chuckled at her aggravated reaction, before making eye contact with her and smiling innocently.

It so happens that once I made that fateful eye contact with her, not noticing of course, the ball flying towards my face at a tremendous speed – I found myself seeing stars. You know, the kind that encircle your head before you …. blank out.

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	3. Broken and Eluded

Chapter Three

It's a funny thing, being unconscious. It's like falling asleep, only quicker. And when you finally regain consciousness, all you can hear is the frantic voices of the people around you. You try to communicate, but you find your body is in a bind – frustratingly unable to move. I was semi-conscious. Aware of the people surrounding me. I could hear a low, husky voice almost panicking beside me; it sounded rather like Paul. He didn't seem the type to worry about someone getting knocked out – he appeared more like the type that would be doing the knocking out. Embry's calm and understanding voice reassured him. There was a quiet chuckle followed by a growl of anger; I jumped and my eyes fluttered open. I was surrounded by the majority of the class all staring down at me. Not exactly what I had wanted on my first day. I hadn't planned on getting knocked out either. That was when the pain registered – my head was throbbing. It felt like it was going to burst any second; I could hear my heartbeat so clear it was almost as if I was resting my head on someone's chest. I groaned and squinted – the light was unnecessarily bright.

'You know, you're meant to at least _dodge the ball_ when someone has spiked it at you,' some smart ass commented. I growled and attempted to sit up but was pushed back down again. I glared at Paul who had put his hand on my shoulder and was keeping me down. He looked at me with a stern gaze, his eyebrow raised as if to ask, what the hell do you think you're doing? 'Honestly, Ruby, you're a head case!' I glanced sidewards to see Embry kneeling beside me – I narrowed my eyes in his direction and retried to sit up.

'Let go of me,' I hissed at Paul, quickly shrugging his hand off my shoulder and sitting up. It's not like I was angry at him – well I was – he was making me lie there like an idiot. And I was not going to lie on the floor like an invalid when I felt perfectly fine.

'You were out cold for at least five minutes! You shouldn't even be sitting up,' Paul reasoned with me – but I wasn't having any of it. Why did he care about me so much anyway? I had only known him for a day. He was looking down at me as if I was a child who had taken from the cookie jar without permission. 'You really should lie down,' he said, austerely.

I rolled my eyes impatiently and snorted. 'Who are you to tell me what to do?' I asked him coldly, getting to my feet with no effort at all. I wasn't expecting an answer back – I didn't want one. I was pissed – or in a more polite explanation – seething. The first day of my new school and I had been made a fool of. I felt like slapping the idiot who had spiked the ball at me. I wobbled slightly on my feet. Paul made the mistake of trying to help me regain my balance; I slapped his hand away, shot an annoyed glance up at him and began making my way across the Gym.

Humiliation had taken over quite a while ago. It was fortunate for me that I rarely blushed. If I did I'm sure I would be blood red by now. I growled to myself and slammed open the Gym door, storming towards the girls locker room. It was just my luck. First of all having to move to the most gloomy town in America, where it rained every day and I was away from everything I was used to. Second of all, I was going to be known as 'the new girl who got knocked out playing volleyball' for the rest of my time in this stupid school. I really should just expect the worse from now on, at least then I wouldn't be disappointed or hurt. I stalked into the girls locker room – the sound of the door slamming open echoed through the room. With my breathing heavy and coarse from my anger, I quickly changed out of the P.E uniform, throwing it huffily into my bag. I grabbed the strap of my bag and swung it over my shoulder, eager to get out of this hell hole. I was making my way out of the door when the rest of the class were retreating to the locker rooms. I avoided walking past anyone who I thought might have the nerve to speak to me. But I'm sure by my furious expression, not even Paul would have the courage. Discreetly remembering that I had to return the paperwork to the ginger haired lady at the office, I sped off in that direction. I wanted to be well out of the parking lot before the final bell rang. It was still raining; a reminiscence triggered in my head. I had made a note to myself to go and buy a coat after school. I shook off the thought of heading down to Port Angeles. I was still quite irritated and the best thing to cure that was to hide away in my room – my usual remedy for shitty days.

I made my way into the warm, and now that I noticed – quite humid office. The ginger haired lady at the reception looked up as the door closed behind me, her eyes lit up recognising me instantly. She smiled as I quickly walked towards the counter towards her. I set the slip down on the counter in front of her, I was hoping to avoid conversation and simply walk away. Things weren't that simple. Her eyes narrowed as though she had found something wrong with my appearance. 'My goodness! Are you alright, dear?' she asked, her mouth slightly agape as she stared at me.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I searched her face for an answer. 'I'm ... fine,' I replied, slowly, watching her as she shook her head in what looked like shock, or rather distress. The final bell rang for the end of school. Then it registered in my head, as if the bell had triggered it. My eyes widened at the thought and my jaw dropped. I scanned the room for some sort of reflective surface, eventually settling for the small window. I gasped at my reflection – my right eye was slightly swollen and bruised. As if by reflex my hand shot up to cover my eye. I glanced back at the receptionist, a worried look on my face. 'Um – bye,' I said abruptly, not waiting for her to reply before I scurried out the door.

I had a black eye. A _black eye_. A great, stupid, bloody, black eye. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs, and pounding the nearest wall with my fists. Actually, pounding the person who gave me the bloody, black eye would be more satisfying. I walked as quickly as I could with my head down so no one could see the monstrosity swelling up half of my face. I ignored the questioning looks as I walked towards the parking lot. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, just in case I had the urge to swing my fist at the nearest person who looked at me oddly. The rain was now bucketing down – this angered me even more. I had no umbrella and no coat; I was soaked. The water was dripping from my hair onto my face and I could feel my feet getting slightly damp as I walked through what seemed like a river. I quickly glanced up to find my car – I was about ten metres from it. I sincerely hoped that no one had seen my face. I dug around in my back pocket for the keys to the Mercedes. Stopping in front of it, I clicked the button to unlock it. I was about to walk around the side but walked straight into a rather muscled chest.

I spluttered angrily and stepped back before attempting to walk around the human tower. He moved once more so that he was in my way. I glanced up, making sure my hair covered my face; Paul was standing in front of me, a playful smirk on his face. 'Get out of my way,' I hissed vehemently. He seemed rather hurt by my anger but remained standing in front of me.

'I only came to see if you were okay,' Paul answered coolly, he folded his muscled arms across his broad chest and looked down at me scornfully.

I rolled my eyes, flicking my head so my hair moved out from in front of my face, to reveal the grotesque swelling around my eye. 'Do I look okay to you?' I spat, balling my fists angrily and tensing almost every muscle in my body. I watched him in a hawk-like manner as he surveyed the lump protruding from my face; he looked rather apologetic.

'Doesn't look too good,' Paul concluded simply. I gaped at him; purely shocked and outraged. I opened and closed my mouth, spluttering in attempt to say something. But nothing came out, I simply growled. Paul watched me with wide eyes, as if I was going to explode right in front of him. 'I – I didn't mean it like that – I was meaning to say that you should maybe go and get it checked out or something,' he said cautiously. I glared at him and narrowed my eyes. What an absurd idea. 'I'm sorry,' he said quickly, eyeing me carefully.

I sighed frustratedly and looked up at him. 'Why should _you_ be sorry? It's not like you did anything wrong! You weren't the asshole who hit me with the stupid fucking ball in the first place!' I snarled, mentally kicking myself for not finding out who it had been. Though, my money was set on the 'newbie beater', Charlotte. Paul remained suspiciously quiet, I gazed up at him stony faced with my eyebrow raised. He chuckled nervously, before lifting his hand and scratching behind his head. That was obviously he did when he was nervous – 'YOU!' I screeched suddenly, frightening not just myself but everyone else that was left in the parking lot. 'YOU GAVE ME THIS!' I yelled pointing at the swelling on my face.

'Ruby, listen – I didn't mean to – it was just – '

'HAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF THIS _THING_ STICKING OUT OF MY FACE? DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T HIT THE BALL SO BLOODY HARD?'

'I didn't mean to hit it that hard, Ruby – you were in the way and – '

'_I WAS IN THE WAY_! YOU SHOULD HAVE AIMED BETTER!'

A low growl rumbled from Paul's throat. It seemed he was getting just as provoked as what I was. 'You should have been watching – you could have dodged out of the way!' he countered, staring down at me. I could see the anger on his face, but his eyes weren't showing it.

I growled and threw my head back in frustration; this boy was impossible. 'Piss off, Paul,' I snarled, and attempted to shove past him but he grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me back. I quickly snatched my elbow out of his grasp. 'What _are_ you doing?'

'You are going to stand there and listen to my apology,' Paul ordered, talking to me as though I was a child. I really wasn't liking his tone towards me. What age did he think I was? Five? It was beginning to severely piss me off.

I scoffed at him before turning my expression deathly. 'If you think I am going to stand with you _anywhere,_ you've got another think coming!' I spat, trying to get around him but once more he grabbed me by the shoulders and held onto them. 'WOULD YOU LEAVE ME _ALONE_!' I yelled, pushing his hands off my shoulders and slapping them away from me. I walked around him; this time he let me.

'No, I wouldn't leave you _alone_, actually,' Paul began, standing in front of my car with his arms folded and with the same expression he had just moments before. 'I would be scared to leave you on your own. You might do yourself some damage – I dunno – maybe a volleyball to the head?'

That was it. I snapped. I stopped abruptly, spun round, flinging my fist with me before it connected with the side of his jaw. He didn't even blink as my fist connected with his face. He just stared at me, expressionlessly. My mouth gaped, my eyes bulged and I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming. The pain was ferocious. It shot up my arm like an electric shock. I whimpered against my lips and began shaking my arm as if to remove the pain. Paul just stood there. Watching as I jumped around in pain. When I finally looked up at him, the tears welling up in my eyes from the fierceness of the pain, I just about managed to whimper; '_What did you do to me_?'

Paul watched me carefully, a compassionate smile etched on his face. 'I didn't do anything to you,' he said quietly, shaking his head. He bent down and held his hand out, his palm facing up.

'Do you have a face made of iron, or something?' I spat through clenched teeth, from both the anger and the pain. Paul smiled, I could see him chuckling silently to himself. He obviously thought something was amusing. 'This is not funny! You've shattered my hand!' Paul rolled his eyes and took the hand that I had punched him with, in his. Unwillingly, I stood while he examined it. 'Do you even know what you're doing? Or do you have a degree in Medicine that I don't know about?' I asked, getting frustrated with him just prodding at my hand.

Paul looked up, his eyebrow raised. 'Yes, I have a degree in Medicine. I just decided to come back to High School for fun,' he said sarcastically, shaking his head. I growled inwardly, I think he heard me because I could see the smirk glazing over his face. He sighed and looked up at me, 'You most probably have a few broken knuckles,' he concluded.

'Are you telling me, that in the amount of time you spent poking at my hand, you've only discovered that I have 'a few broken knuckles? I could have told you that without even looking at it!' I said irritatedly, snatching my hand out of his grip. I took one last glance at him before I walked away from him and towards the driver's side of the car.

'Where are you going?' Paul asked, standing up and watching me as I opened the car door. I ignored him and sat down in front of the steering wheel. I slammed the door shut and fumbling slightly, I just about managed to put my seatbelt on. My hand was still hurting, but it wasn't as bad as before. Still, I was nervous about driving with a broken hand. I grabbed the keys and stuck them in the ignition; the car roared to life. 'Ruby? What are you doing? You can't drive with a broken hand!' Paul shouted incredulously. He purposely stood a few feet in front of it so I couldn't get out of the space without driving over him. At that precise moment I was contemplating it.

I glared at him and rolled down the window. 'GET OUT OF MY WAY, PAUL, OR _I WILL_ RUN YOU OVER!' I yelled angrily, clenching the steering wheel. Instantly I regretted it and winced in pain. I glanced up to see Paul still standing there, smirking smugly. 'DO YOU WANT ME TO FLATTEN YOU, WALKER?'

'I'm all yours,' Paul said with a contented smile and a wink.

I scowled at his cockiness, but my scowl turned to a smirk when I revved the engine loudly. The loudness seemed to attract a small gathering of teenagers by the door of the school, all whispering amongst themselves. I glanced past Paul; Embry, Quil were standing with a guy and girl who's names I didn't know, by their red car. I looked back at Paul who was still standing in front of my car expectantly. I locked my gaze with his whilst I changed gears, and revving the engine once more. This time I stepped on the gas and sped straight for him – he jumped back just as I swerved the car past him and accelerated through the parking lot. I laughed triumphantly, and glanced in the mirror; he was watching me drive away. With the urge to go back and taunt him I slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a stop. I changed gears and reversed back quickly, stopping beside him.

I rolled down the window and glanced up at him. 'You would have looked better lying in a mess on the ground,' I said, with a smirk. Maybe that was a bit harsh – no, he deserved it. His face broke my hand.

'I didn't actually think you would do it,' Paul said, bending down and looking through the window at me. There was something about his expression that seemed a little odd – like he was impressed. He obviously didn't know me at all. 'You really should go and get that hand looked at. I don't want it getting worse than what it is already.'

I rolled my eyes and sighed. 'If you don't shut up, I will run over you,' I threatened. I wasn't joking – if he said anything more about my hand I would run over him, and then reverse over him just to make sure he felt pain. 'Well, goodbye. If I spend any more time with you today, I will end up killing you.'

Paul laughed – he laughed. I glared at him, and a growl rumbled in my throat. I couldn't decide whether I hated him or he was trying to make me hate him. 'I'd like to see you try,' he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Maybe he wants me to strangle him. I'm sure one day it would happen.

'Don't tempt me, Walker,' I snarled, stepping on the gas and speeding out of the parking lot.

***

When I opened the front door, the silence overwhelmed me. There was something unusual about it, but I thought nothing of it. I trudged in, my school bag slung over my shoulder and my mangled hand held up close to my chest. I closed the door behind me, the sound echoed through the house. I stood and listened, shrugged when I heard nothing and walked slowly into the kitchen. The first thing that hit me was the unruly smell of cigarette smoke – not something I was incredibly used to considering neither of my parents smoked. James did occasionally – along with some crack from time to time. For the first time for a long time, I actually missed him. I missed how he would purposely mess with my head, getting me angry and frustrated and then out of the blue just … hugging me. He really was a peculiar person, but a good one at that – even though he spent most of his day, wasted. Mum and Dad thought nothing of it. 'He's a normal teenager,' Mum would say while she cleared up his vomit from the night before when he came home from a bender.

I dropped my bag at the kitchen door, and walked into the middle of the room. I glanced around trying to remember where the first aid kit was kept – if we even had one. Frustrated, I began opening and closing cupboard doors, but much to my annoyance there was nothing that could possibly help me in the situation that I was in. I sighed, pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. I almost jumped off it when I realised that we hadn't had any table or chairs this morning. I came to the conclusion that the removal men had finally arrived with our furniture. That meant the stuff from my old room was there. It was weird how something so, unimportant, could make me slightly excited. Then I remembered my hand; I flexed my fingers and my knees wobbled underneath me – the pain was still as bad. I made the decision that once I had inspected my room, that I would drive myself to the county hospital.

It still felt weird being in a house on my own. Normally, Mum would be sitting in the living room chatting on the phone to one of her many friends when I came home from school. But not today. I took a peek into the living room as I walked towards the stairs. Nothing. I began to climb the stairs, blissfully unaware of what could possibly be lurking upstairs – that was until I heard a dull thud coming from my parents room. It surprised me, I _had_ thought that the house was empty. Apparently not. Curious, yet slightly scared at the prospect of what I might find – walking in on my parents having sex wasn't something I wanted to witness – I stood with my ear against my parents door. It was frustrating because I couldn't actually hear anything. It couldn't be both my parents; Mum's car wasn't in the driveway. So, I bravely put my hand on the door-handle and began to push it down. Almost suddenly, as if by magic, the door swung open of its own accord.

I stood, wide-eyed, horrified and rooted to the spot as I surveyed – unwillingly might I add – a naked, greying man thrusting himself into my very own – also stark naked – mother. I hadn't taken a breath since the door had swung open, I was sure I was going purple. I gagged, the bile creeping up my throat. My mother was a whore. A fucking (literally) middle-aged tart. Then she saw me. She looked at me, I'm sure the very same way I was looking at her. Well, maybe not, I was _disgusted_. The man must have noticed her gaping expression and turned his head towards me. My expression was now emotionless as I stared back at them. I was almost waiting for Mum to come up with some smart-ass comment like; Bill, this is my daughter I was telling you about. Yes, while you shagged him you fucking hoe. Revolted, I spun on my heel and ran down the stairs. I had already had enough of this town and I had only been living in it one bloody day. I ran into the kitchen; I had to lean against the wall to steady myself. It's strange how seeing your mother shagging some random old man can make you unbelievably queasy.

After getting my head around the fact that my family was as messed up as it possibly could be – I don't know how I did it, but I did – I grabbed the keys of the Mercedes and was about to head out the door. But something James had once said to me triggered in my head. 'I don't know why you're so disgusted with me, Rubes. You know my life is a mess, and getting blocked helps – you forget everything' – well, I had never tried it before, so, now seemed like a good idea to test it. Immediately remembering where Dad kept all his drink, I dived to the cupboard under the sink and pulled open the doors. I smiled victoriously to myself as I examined the many bottles of liquor in front of me. Not knowing what any of them tasted like, I grabbed three bottles of different drink and closed the cupboard door behind me. I turned around and my mother was standing in the doorway. She was wearing a red, silk gown and I'm sure that was it. I stared expressionlessly at her before walking straight past her into the hallway.

'What happened to your face? Ruby. We need to talk,' Mum called after me, her usual high-pitched annoying tone had died. Her voice quavered slightly and then I heard bare feet padding up the hall after me. 'Ruby … let me explain.'

I kept walking, the three bottles of liquor in my hands – and yes, it hurt to carry them with my spazzed up hand. 'You don't need to explain anything,' I replied coldly, not bothering to look at her, 'You were shagging some old man who isn't my Dad. That doesn't need an explanation.' I set two of the bottles down on the small cabinet whilst I opened the front door. I retrieved the bottles and marched down the path towards the car.

'Oh, Ruby. It's not like that. I – It just happened – I didn't mean for you – '

I laughed – I don't know how I managed it, considering my life was a mess and I had a broken hand. 'You didn't mean for me to walk in on you?' I finished for her before shaking my head. 'That's what locks are for – how long has this been going on exactly?' I asked her acidly.

'It was just – It was just a one-off thing, Ruby,' Mum said, attempting to sound sorry – she didn't look at all apologetic. 'I – I don't know why I did it – I mean – our life was going to be perfect in Forks. And … now it's ruined our relationship and – '

'We never had a relationship to begin with Mum – it's you and Dad that need to sort things out,' I said insensately, opening the back door of the car and setting the bottles of liquor on the floor. The chinked together like a chime in the wind.

'I hope you're not going drinking, Ruby. You'll get caught for drinking and driving – '

'Oh, and I suppose that's worse than getting caught in the act of adultery by your own daughter,' I spat, slamming the door shut. I stared at her, she stared back. She was emotionless, like I was. There was no love lost between us – there was none to begin with. 'I suppose that was the whole idea all along, was it? Bring me up here to just ruin my life completely, did you? I know my life was already shit back in California, but up here, God, I think I'd rather die than live here for longer than necessary.'

'Don't be stupid, Ruby. How could things possibly be that bad? You always were the one to overreact. Why can't you just be a normal teenager? Like –'

'James,' I answered for her once more. I laughed, from disbelief and sheer scepticism. 'Fine. Have it your way then,' I said, opening the driver's door and sitting in front of the steering wheel. 'By the way. If you don't hear from me, I'm either too wasted to pick up the phone, drugged up to my eyes and unconscious or shagging some bloke in a back alleyway,' I growled, slamming the door shut and sticking the key in the ignition forcefully. Mother stood on the pathway, staring out at me. I revved the engine up and sped off down the road – I didn't know where I was headed.

Well, I did actually – the county hospital. I wasn't for running around with broken knuckles no matter how rebellious I felt. It wasn't hard to find. I took the highway, following the signs and they took me straight there. Unlike most other things in the area around Forks, the hospital was surprisingly big. Before I got out of the car I made sure and hid the three bottles of liquor that I was planning to get pissed on. Quickly, eager to get in, get fixed up and get out again, I made my way towards the emergency waiting area. I spoke to the woman at the reception who instructed me to go and wait in the waiting room. I could have jumped for joy when I saw that there was only one other person there. It took no longer than ten minutes for me to be guided into the emergency room where nurses were bustling around in blue scrubs, doctors in long white coats examining patients and porters pushing beds around. Just as Paul and I had concluded earlier that afternoon, the nurse informed me that after a quick x-ray, that I had two broken knuckles. There was nothing she could really do for me apart from putting them in a brace – as long as I was careful. I swiftly agreed. Before I knew it, I was waltzing out of the hospital, my arm in a bright blue sling, heading for my car.

I wasn't entirely sure where to go after that. I didn't know of any place where I could do what I wanted and not get interrupted. I didn't fancy going to Port Angeles, and Forks was too close to my horrendous family. So I just drove. I drove down the highway once more, speeding through Forks and swerving down small roads that were no bigger than lanes. I sang along to the radio the whole way there – it was a comfort. I suddenly felt very vulnerable – my Mercedes was so easily recognised, if anyone say it they would know it was me. But I shut off the thought and continued to drive – not knowing where to, of course. I took down a long winding road, it was close to the sea. I could see the waves crashing against the rocks as I looked out the car window. Eventually I reached a small cove in the road, I slowed down and stopped the car so it was facing out onto the beach. It was deserted; it looked like the perfect spot. Not exactly the sort of beach I was thinking of. Beaches were meant to be warm and sunny – not this one, the wind was blowing at gale force and the rain was mizzling down like a fog. But I didn't care. I rummaged around in the boot and found a pair of shorts that I used for travelling in. I changed into them and put on my brother's hoody; it covered my shorts making it look as though I wasn't wearing anything underneath. Once again, I wasn't bothered by this – it wasn't as though someone would find me.

Feeling in the mood for a bit of music, I turned on the radio and turned the music up loud so that it echoed across the beach. I took the wooden steps down to the wet, sandy beach, the three bottles in my hands. This was going to be a night to remember, where I forgot all that happened that afternoon. I plunked myself down on the sand and began screwing open the top of one of the bottles. Success from that led to me glugging down more than I could handle; I choked. I lay down in the sand, the bottle in my hand, watching the sun set. As the skies darkened and I moved onto the third bottle, I knew I was getting tipsy. My mind was scattered, I could barely think straight. Bored of lying down on the sand, I got to my feet and wandered towards the waves crashing onto the shore, the bottle clasped tightly in my fist.

'_And you want him, and you need him, but you act like he's not there. Yeah, you know that you're hollow and somethings missing here. So you push and you pull a hole in your soul,'_ I sang along with the radio which was still blaring loudly. I splashed my bare feet in the waves, and walked along the shore, taking occasional swigs of the drink which I had identified as rum. '_But you can't make the hunger disappear.' _

I soon found it hard to walk in a straight line, but that didn't stop me from downing the rest of the bottle of rum. Frowning when I realised that the bottle was empty I trudged up the beach towards where I had been sitting before I decided to take a walk. The song had changed, fortunately to one I knew, feeling alone, I sang along with the radio once more. '_Coz, you've got a secret, don't cha, babe. Yeah, you, you've got a secret, don't cha, babe. And I … should know. Yeah, I .. should know. Well, I … I'm your secret, aren't I, babe?' _

I found it hard to keep my eyes opened, even with the music still blasting out loudly from the car. I suppose it was the drink that was doing it – what else could it be? Well, I suppose, it was now almost pitch black and the crashing waves seemed to act like a lullaby. I had always wondered what falling under the stars would be like; now I knew. Cold and windy. That didn't bother me though, I was comfortable – that was what mattered. The sand seemed to mould around my body as I lay down. Then, I think I did what any person would have done in that situation – I fell asleep.

**Hope you liked the chapter (: REVIEWS ARE REALLY NICE! HINT HINT. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update (: **

**Songs: The Hunger – Fireflight & Secret – Missy Higgins **


	4. Unwanted Kindness

Chapter Four

When you wake up, your senses are alert but your eyes remain shut – eager to sleep on. I had awoken. There was something strange occurring. I was in an alienated situation – nothing felt like what it was supposed to feel like. I couldn't smell the saltiness of the sea or the crisp, fresh air; instead I was breathing in a musky, woody aroma. Then it came to my attention that I could no longer hear the waves crashing on the shore. I wasn't on the beach. Beneath me the sand had been removed and replaced with a comfortable, plumb mattress. A large, warm duvet was blanketed over me and an unfamiliar scent lingering on it. I tried to replay over what had happened the night before in my head. But everything from when I fell asleep until now was blank. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to know who had 'rescued' me. I hadn't needed rescuing – I had been fine, just a little tipsy, but still perfectly okay. It was pleasant just lying here in this bed – the owner of which was still unknown. I kept my eyes closed tight, hoping that I would fall asleep again. The warmth and snugness of the bed, along with my slow and even breathing slowly lulling me back to sleep. I was nearly in the unconscious state which I had hoped for.

My stomach grumbled loudly, bringing me out of my unconscious state. I made a face of confusion. I wasn't the slightest bit hungry. Then it gurgled again – I wasn't liking this feeling one bit. I was familiar with it. You know it's going to happen – you start heaving, trying your hardest to keep everything down. I gagged, a bad taste plaguing my mouth. Finally, I snapped open my eyes. Even in that quick second that I had opened my eyes, and the worrying, distracted state I was in; I took in so much detail of the room. There were dark blue walls surrounding me; I was lying in a bed with a black duvet and pillows; there was a wardrobe in the corner, a desk too. My stomach heaved again, I felt the bile crawling up my throat. I knew what was coming. I kicked off the duvet and jumped out of the bed. I wobbled, nearly falling to the floor. I groaned and put a hand up to my forehead – it was throbbing painfully. Frantically, my hand covered protectively over my mouth, I pulled open the door and dashed out into an unfamiliar hallway. All I could hear was my bare feet padding against the wooden floor, I ran down the hall, not knowing where to go. I could smell food from down the hallway – it made me gag even more. Even the thought of it was making me heave. Privacy I didn't care for any more – I wasn't for making a mess in someone's house. Heck, I didn't even know who they were! I pushed open a door to reveal a bedroom with dark green walls; it was quite messy – obviously a guy's bedroom. With my hand still over my mouth I ran down the hall, the gagging was getting worse, I could almost feel the vomit in my mouth. I swiftly kicked open a door, I almost jumped for joy – it was a bathroom. I stumbled across the room, one disabled hand on my head, one over my mouth. I fell to my knees in front of the toilet, clasped the seat not caring who's ass had been on it and vomited into the basin. I'm not going to describe it – I'm sure you wouldn't want me to. Let's just say, it was horrible. My hair was constantly getting in the way and I bet it took skin off the back of my throat.

Once I had finished – and boy, was I glad – I lay down on the cold, tiled floor. I was warm, not a nice warm but an overpowering, hot. I laid my cheek on the floor, cooling my face. It never occurred to me how unhygienic it was – I was just glad to be cooling down. I closed my eyes, hoping to go back to sleep, although, it probably wasn't the best place to pass out. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. Startled, I lifted my head, and instantly groaned as the pain shot through it. I opened my eyes slowly, peeking up at the person standing before me. I gasped and immediately covered my eyes. Paul was standing in front of me in nothing but boxers. I had to admit, as much as I disliked the boy, he was kinda hot. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Excuse me. Did I just blush? Oh sweet Jesus, you have got to me kidding me. The first time I have blushed in years and it's when I see a guy I dislike, half-naked.

'_You_? What are _you_ doing here? And don't you have _clothes_ to wear?' I asked him, taking my hand away from my eyes to see him smirking down at me. I glowered back. I'm sure I looked awful already, I didn't really need to make an ugly expression to go along with it. I could feel my dirty blonde hair sticking up everywhere, my face felt tight and I was tired – I most probably had bags under my eyes.

He knelt down on his hunkers; he was still taller than me. 'I live here,' he said slowly, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened. Did he just say he l_ived here_? Oh. My. God. I was in Paul Walker's house. The guy who I had yelled at and had punched. The guy who had broken my hand with his iron-like jaw. Then I gasped when it dawned on me that I could have been sleeping in his _bed_. I couldn't decide whether I felt disgusted or shocked or … confused because I strangely couldn't take my eyes off him. 'And, I don't really feel the need to wear clothes in my own house.'

I stared at him, unable to say anything. I closed my mouth, pouted, pulled my eyebrows close together and crumpled my forehead. 'But –' I stopped and growled. I couldn't string to words together, they were coming out in huffs and puffs whilst I glared at him. 'Well – how – why am I here?' I finally managed to utter.

'I brought you here,' Paul answered simply; I glared at him for more of an explanation. He shrugged his broad, muscled shoulders in realisation. 'I went out for a run along the beach – '

'After sunset?' I asked incredulously.

'Can't you just listen without interrupting?' Paul snapped, I glanced to the floor in embarrassment. I wasn't in the mood to get angry with him – it took too much energy. And I couldn't hit him, I'd probably end up with a broken arm or something. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I've got bad temper, I suppose.' I almost felt like saying; you don't say. But I figured that would make him even more moody. 'And I could here the music from your car – I knew it was your car, it was almost sparkling in the moonlight.' So much for inconspicuous. Maybe I should get a new car – take it out of my mother's account. At least then she couldn't hire male escorts, because there would be no money left to pay them. 'When I found you, you were sort of sprawled out in the sand – you were totally out of it. I could smell the alcohol off your breath and everything – '

'You shouldn't have got so close to me then,' I interrupted, slightly annoyed that he had 'smelled' me and had invaded my personal bubble. He sent me an annoyed glance and I shut up almost instantly. When did I actually start considering his feelings? He must have drugged me. Either that or I was going insane. Or, actually – I probably was ignoring my theory.

Paul continued, ignoring the fact that I had interrupted his speech. 'Well, you were cold and I didn't want to leave you there –' I glanced at him with my eyebrow raised and a smirk. He rolled his eyes, 'I just did what every other nice person would do. You would have frozen!' Then it was my turn to roll my eyes heavenward. 'So, I picked you up –' I scowled when he wiggled his eyebrows at me, '– carried you to your car and drove you back here.'

'You could have just taken me back home, you know. I'm sure you don't want me here any more than _I_ want to be here,' I said haughtily, glancing around, surveying his bathroom. It reminded me a bit of our bathroom, only it wasn't blue and yellow – it was black and white. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him watching me. He wasn't staring as such, more, curious. I looked back at him and he suddenly looked away, as though trying to conceal the fact that he had been watching me. I had to force myself to not smile. 'Well,' I began, pulling myself to my feet, 'I have to go – I'm already late for school.'

'So am I,' Paul said, as though it didn't matter whether or not he was being absent from school. He remained where he was whilst I walked around him towards the door.

I glanced back at him and to my surprise he was standing right behind me with his arms folded across his chest. I almost jumped from the shock. 'It's alright for you, you can play truant if you want. I've only been at the school for a day, I can't afford to stay off – even if I look like shit,' I said, glancing down at my brother's too big hoody that I was wearing. I walked out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there. I made my way down the hall, hoping to find the front door somewhere.

'You don't look that bad,' I heard Paul call after me, his footsteps echoing down the hall after me. 'If you had stayed on that beach until this morning you would have looked worse. So you should really thank me for bringing you here,' he said, I could tell he was smirking. I couldn't decided whether he was trying to provoke me on purpose, or he was too stupid to realise that I had a bad temper.

I snorted disbelievingly. 'I'm not going to _thank you_,'I said, the tone of my voice stating that it was clearly an unbelievably stupid idea. 'Why should I thank you, anyway? You saved me from looking like shit – oh, thanks – that was so nice of you,' I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, as I walked into what looked like a living room. He had thought he had done me a favour. He hadn't. I searched around the room, frustrated that I couldn't find a way out. 'Urgh – where is the way out of this place?' I growled, stamping my foot in annoyance.

'You can't go yet – you haven't had any breakfast,' Paul said, ignoring my huffiness, walking in from behind me and making his way towards the kitchen which was conjoined onto the living room.

I glanced at him as if he was demented, before spluttering in agnosticism. 'I am_ not_ staying for breakfast,' I said, watching him with my eyebrows furrowed as he pottered around in the kitchen. He seemed oblivious to the fact that I didn't want to stay.

'You can't go to school on an empty stomach,' Paul replied, but he didn't look up from what he was doing. Instead he continued, obviously determined to make me eat breakfast. I was baffled. He was so … strange. I had been horrible to him. I had yelled at him, and hit him yesterday, and this morning, he was insisting in making me breakfast.

'I'm not going to school!' I snapped, throwing my hands in the air in resentment, my temper getting the better of me.

'But … I thought you said you were,' Paul said scrutinizingly. It was almost as if he knew how to piss me off. Every time I said something he always had, a smart, or sarcastic answer or reply.

I growled, and bunched my fists. 'I _am_ for going – but not now – after I eventually get to go home and get changed!' I shouted exasperatedly. I looked at him for some sort of conformation that he was going to let me go sooner or later; he was still making me breakfast and ignoring me. I groaned sourly, violently pulled a chair out from under the table and reluctantly sat down on it. He had defeated me. I sat, glaring daggers in his direction with my arms folded. He was smiling.

A few minutes later, I was still agitated with him. Even when he set a plate of mouthwatering pancakes with maple syrup drizzled over the top of them, I remained sitting with my arms folded stubbornly. Then he pulled the chair beside me out form under the table and sat down on it. I watched him carefully, my expression not changing. He folded his arms and stared back at me. I raised my eyebrow. What was he doing? Was this some sort of reverse psychology? Or was he simply trying to piss me off, yet again? That seemed most likely. God, he's such an idiot. I broke eye contact with him and glanced down at my feet, I only realised then that I had no shoes on. I glanced back at him, 'Where are my shoes?'

He got to his feet and said, 'They're in my room – I'll go and get them.' He walked through the kitchen and towards the hallway, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back at me. 'You better have eaten something by the time I get back,' he said, and he sounded deadly serious.

I tutted irritatedly and rolled my eyes. 'You can't make me,' I replied darkly and continued to glare at him. Paul didn't reply. He seemed to have got the hint that I wasn't the type of person that he should annoy. He simply turned and began to walk down the hall. As soon as he disappeared out of sight, it was almost as if a light-bulb flicked on in my head. I shot to my feet and began searching around the room for a way out – there was no door, no way out. I quickly checked down the hall; Paul was still preoccupied. I glanced around the room once more, my eyes catching, a smile creeping onto my face. I rushed over to the kitchen, hoisted myself up onto the bench and had to avoid knocking anything over. Much to my dismay, the cooker was right in front of the open window. And it was still hot since Paul had used it to make the pancakes. Feeling devilish and rebellious, I put one foot on either side of the cooker and leant my hands on the wall for support. I bent down, thought it was a rather awkward position to be in, and stuck my upper body through the window.

I was about to put my foot up on the windowsill when a pair of rather large hands snaked around my waist and lifted me effortlessly out of the window. 'I would have preferred it if you had used the door,' Paul said, sounding annoyed and setting me on my feet. But still, he didn't bother to let go of me as I struggled against him. I huffed and puffed as I elbowed and nudged him, trying to pry myself from him – it wasn't working. Finally, I just gave up and folded my arms in a huff. 'Finished wearing yourself out yet?' he asked, comically – I didn't find it funny.

'Just let – me – go, Paul,' I said, quietly and seriously while I tried to calm myself down.

'So, we're on first name terms again, huh?' Oh, the cheek of him. I would have slapped him then and there but the fact that I would be the one getting injured – not him – stopped me. If he would stop trying to provoke me, I think I might be able to get along with him. He actually seemed like a nice guy – before he knocked me out. Okay, clearly that ball hit me harder that I had thought. What happened to my theory about guys? Clearly Paul had escaped me thinking of him as a cheater, and a user.

'Don't make me hit you,' I snarled back in defence. I couldn't let that happen to me again. It hurt too much – and to think I was _in love_ with the guy who cheated on me. Paul couldn't find out that I found him … Urgh, I can't even bring myself to say it.

'Don't do that – you might get hurt again.'

'If there's a frying pan close enough, I'll hit you with that instead,' I threatened him. He just chuckled, not bothered in the slightest about the fact that the frying pan was sitting on the cooker within my reach. I sighed, fed up fighting with him, 'Please, just let me go, Paul.' Immediately, as though I had said a magic word – he let go of me. I turned, brushed past him, grabbing my shoes off the counter before setting them on the ground. I quickly slipped them on and turned around to face Paul; he was staring out the window. 'Um – you couldn't show me the way out, could you?' I asked him quietly. Now I thought about what I had done, I felt guilty for attempting to escape – he was only trying to be nice after all.

I looked up at him with a half-smile on my face as he turned around. I saw him sigh and manage a smile back, 'Sure,' he said with a slight shrug. He walked past me and out into the hall, looking back to see if I was following. 'Just through here,' he said, opening a large open door and waiting for me to catch up on him. I held back, thinking he would go through the door first but he gestured for me to go ahead of him. I smiled as an indication of my thanks and walked through into a glass porch; it was beautiful and I couldn't help but stare at the colourful, mosaicked glass on the roof. I heard Paul chuckle behind me, 'You like it?'

'It's beautiful,' I said, forgetting how I was blunt and stubborn with him earlier. 'I like the roof, it's very … unique,' I said, glancing back at him and surprising myself because I smiled without having a reason to.

Paul walked out into the porch, looking up at the roof. 'It was my idea, actually –' I glanced at him quickly, my eyebrows furrowed, '– Nan wanted something different, so I suggested this,' he said simply before letting out a bark-like laugh. 'She liked it so much, she bought me my car.'

'The red one?' I asked interestedly.

Paul seemed almost surprised by my question, but nodded. 'You can head on out if you want,' he said suddenly, nodding towards the door. I walked forward and reached out for the handle, pushing it down, but it wouldn't open. 'Oh – yeah – um – I need the key,' he said awkwardly before disappearing down the hall.

'You locked me in?' I asked him when he returned with a little gold key in his hand. He didn't reply, but glanced at me with a guilty smile. I sighed and shook my head – he was unbelievable. He brushed past me, closer to the door before bending down and unlocking the door. As he stood up, I found myself in a very compromising situation. He was standing so close to me, his hot breath was steaming up my face. It was almost making me woozy. I closed my eyes, undecided of what to do. Kiss him or not? Shit, what is happening to me? There is supposed to be a statement permanently etched into my head: Guys are the enemy. But there was something about Paul. Something that made him – dare I say it – irresistible. I knew that I had been acting cold towards him, it's what I do when I realise … I'm _attracted_ to someone, I guess. It's just a natural reaction for me. I shook my head – he's an idiot and just like every other guy, I told myself. I snapped my eyes open and realised he was standing even closer than I had thought he was. I inhaled quickly, 'Um – ' I turned my head away from him, '– I – eh – I better go.'

I pulled the door open abruptly before glancing back at him. He was smiling, almost gleefully. I growl rumbled in my throat – if he found out I liked him, he would never give up and that would be all I would hear from him. I looked back ahead of me; my car was sitting in the drive way. I walked towards it and was about to open the car door when I realised I didn't have the key. 'You have the key to my car, right?' I asked Paul, before turning around once more. He was leaning against the door-frame, dangling the Mercedes keys from one of his hands. I stared at him, lost in his appearance – then I mentally kicked myself. He threw the keys to me, and I caught them easily. 'Thanks,' I muttered, turning around before I could start staring again. I quickly opened the car, pulled open the driver's door and plunked myself down in front of the steering wheel. I slammed the door shut – I couldn't decide whether or not to say goodbye. If I said goodbye, he would think I was being nice … I put the keys in the ignition and turned the car on, the engine roaring to life. I simply smiled and waved – I felt that was sufficient for the time being.

'See you in school, Ruby,' Paul called after me as I reversed the car out of his driveway. As much as I was tempted to not go back to school, Dad would be getting worried about me. I hadn't come home at all last night – even James had never stayed out all night, he _always_ came home. So, getting home was more important. And Dad would most definitely make me go to school – after he gave me a bollocking of course.

When I made it to the end of Paul's lane – nothing was familiar. But instead of going back and asking Paul directions, I went with my instincts and sped down the small road. It took a while before I finally recognised some of the scenery. I just needed to follow the highway, and it would take me straight to Forks. I hoped. It wasn't long before I made it to the little town of Forks. It was quiet when I drove through it – it would be, everyone was in school. I just prayed that I didn't run into any police. They would know that I was meant to be in school because I definitely don't look old enough to have graduated High School – even though this was my last year. I pulled to a stop in the drive-way. Mum's car was gone. Shutting off the engine, I got out of the car, locking it after me and began walking up the path towards the front door. I pushed the door open, expecting to be pounced upon by my Dad, but surprisingly I wasn't. I shrugged – guess no one really did care about me. I closed the door behind me and made my way towards the stairs.

'WHERE _HAVE_ YOU BEEN?' I jumped at the loudness of the roar that had just been emitted. I glanced down the stairs to see my Dad standing at the bottom of them. 'RUBY TAYLOR, ANSWER ME THIS INSTANT!' he bellowed. He never used my full name, never; he was livid.

'I was acting like a normal teenager – just like Mum said I should,' I replied bluntly, though I was slightly scared, I turned my back on him and began walking up the stairs once more. I was really confused … normally he wouldn't mind if I went out. I just rolled my eyes. I was fed up with everyone being so confusing. That's when I heard the thundering footsteps behind me; I glanced back and he was stalking me up the stairs.

'DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME, RUBY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I HAVE BEEN? JESUS, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR ALL I KNEW!' he yelled, throwing his hands in the air. Wow … he actually did care about me. I was beginning to think it was all an act. I knew fine rightly Mum didn't care less about me, not that I cared anyway. I knew he was gaining on me, but I didn't walk any quicker. Suddenly I felt hands on the back of my hoody; he spun me around and stared furiously at me. 'WHERE THE BLOODY HELL WHERE YOU?'

I gulped. I had never actually been scared of my Dad before, but now I was. 'At the beach,' I replied, looking him in the eye. He always knew when someone was lying – he told me all the time. And it was when the person who was lying avoided eye contact and didn't speak clearly.

'The beach?' Dad repeated; he was still red in the face. I nodded. 'Don't look too good this morning – have a bit of a drink too, did we?' He seemed slightly irritated when he asked me this. It's not like he wasn't used to his child drinking. At least I don't go out every night like James.

'Yes.' There was no point lying to him. He was bound to find out that three bottles where missing from his stash of alcohol under the sink.

Dad shook his head; he looked slightly disappointed. 'I thought you weren't like James, Ruby. I thought you had more sense,' he said, staring me in the eye. He was frowning. 'Clearly not. Don't let it get out of hand, Ruby. I don't want to see you ending up addicted like James.'

'That was the first time I have ever drank excessively, Dad,' I said, furrowing my eyebrows and acting like it was no big deal. 'I won't get addicted – I just needed to forget about some things,' I said honestly. Too bad it hadn't worked in the slightest. It was a good thing Mum had scurried off to work or I would have blabbed to Dad about her and the greying, old man that was in their bed.

Dad nodded, he seemed to understand. 'Right,' he said, turning and beginning to walk across the hall. But he stopped and glanced around at me. 'Why aren't you at school?' Then he rolled his eyes and shook his head. 'Get ready for school, Ruby. I'll write you a note to say there was a family crisis,' he said with a sigh before retreating down the stairs.

I sighed – it was a good thing I had one understanding parent. I rushed, of course, not wanting to make my Dad any angrier. I had a quick shower and washed my hair before changing into clothes more appropriate for going to school in. I didn't have time to dry or straighten my hair, so I left it damp. It took me two minutes to put on some make-up (making sure to try and cover the massive bruise over my eye) before I grabbed my school-bag and ran down the stairs. Dad was waiting at the front door, an envelope in his hand. I said my thanks and quickly grabbed the letter from his hand before rushing out the door. If I rushed, I would make it to school in time for Trig – the only class apart from English that I hadn't had yesterday. I sped down the highway, well over the speed limit and I was lucky not to have been caught. I pulled up into the school, driving through into the parking lot. There weren't many spaces left, but I found one eventually. I was in such a frenzy that I almost forgot to lock the car as I ran across the parking lot towards the school. As I was walking into the building, the bell rang and I was caught in a sea of people evacuating from their classes. People who knew me smiled, some even waved – I smiled back, not something that I would usually do, but it was polite. I made my way down the hallway, I was still going to be late; I didn't exactly know the way. Using the map I managed to navigate myself to my Trig room. The door was open and I peered in, before looking down at my schedule. Mrs Lockhart. I peered in once more. Yes, it was a woman.

Once I had finally plucked up the courage, I walked quickly into the room, avoiding the gazes of the other people in the class. I walked towards Mrs Lockhart with a nervous smile on my face. I was praying she was nice. She noticed me almost instantly and smiled pleasantly towards me. 'Hello, dear. You're the new girl, aren't you?' she asked.

I smiled and sighed in relief that she was good-natured. 'Yeah … I'm Ruby Taylor,' I said.

'Well, I'm glad you have joined my Trigonometry class, Ruby,' Mrs Lockhart said with a small nod, before glancing around at the class, presumably for an empty seat. 'Now, let's find you a seat … Ah – there's a seat beside Kim,' she said, pointing to a tanned girl with long, wavy, black hair. She smiled towards me as Mrs Lockhart said her name.

'Thanks,' I said to Mrs Lockhart and made my way towards where Kim was sitting. I walked down the aisle, my gaze kept on my destination. Suddenly, I tripped over something, stumbled and almost lost my balance. I gathered myself up and glanced sideways to see who the culprit was: Charlotte.

'Nice bruise, Taylor,' She taunted, her eyes narrow as she glared at me. 'It makes you look even uglier.'

Suddenly, there was a sharp snap from across the room and I looked up. I glanced around, my gaze finally resting on Paul who was sitting at the front of the classroom. His expression was furious, I could see him shaking, and in his hand was what looked like a pen – but it was now snapped in half. I turned my attention back to Charlotte, glared at her – I wasn't in the mood for fighting with her. She didn't bother me. I had been called much worse in the past, it wasn't like I wasn't used to it. I finally reached my seat and Kim was smiling cheerfully towards me as I sat down beside her.

'Hi Ruby,' she said, still smiling. I glanced skeptically at her – how did she know my name? Confused, I smiled anyway. 'I'm Kim, nice _finally_ to meet you,' she said, her tone suggested that I was missing out on something.

'Nice to meet you too, Kim,' I said, pulling my books out of my bag and setting them on the desk. Still baffled, I decided to be brave and ask her what had been playing in my mind. 'What do you mean _finally _meet me?' I said, with a small chuckle.

Kim giggled, 'I've heard all about you, put it that way,' she said enthusiastically. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I could see her glancing across the classroom before her gaze stopped towards the front, then her expression suddenly turned serious. 'What I mean is, you know, everyone's talking about you. You are the 'new girl' after all,' she said quickly.

But somehow, I didn't believe that was what she was going to say before she caught eye contact with Paul.

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	5. Domination

Chapter Five

School had suddenly become interesting – there was clearly something going on, and I could tell that Kim, my Trig partner, was having trouble keeping this secret from me. But what concerned me was that it was obviously about myself, and I had a slight feeling Paul would be entangled in this secret too. He was a strange one, Paul was. There would be days when I could predict that he would be walking closely behind me as I walked from class to class, days where he would practically follow me wherever I went and days where he would protect me from anything that I found slightly hurtful. I didn't mind that he cared for me, but at times it became irritating. I'm an independent person, I always have been, ever since I can remember – I don't appreciate people doing things for me, making me look weak, or fighting my battles for me. But, not every day of the week did Paul follow me around like a lost puppy – some days I could sense him being distant from me, his annoyance, and irritated emotion radiating from him … towards me, and I couldn't understand why. I was his friend, I couldn't deny that – he was an amazing guy, but I couldn't help but feel that he was, sort of, expecting _more. _As much as I hate to admit it, I did have feelings for him, I mean, who couldn't even be _slightly attracted_ to him? He was vexatiously flawless, the only thing he had going against him was his temper.

Paul wasn't the only thing on my mind, of course. My recent viewing of my mother's adulterous ways was still etched in the back of my head – I was undecided of what to do. Nothing seemed to be the sensible thing to do – nothing would result in the conclusion I wanted. And I didn't even know what I wanted from it all. Dad had been in an formidably happy mood since I had come home that morning looking like death itself – I didn't want to ruin that for him. He had already found a new job, and I could tell he was enjoying it; he came home, practically skipping up the path, a giddy grin pasted on his face. Mother on the other hand, was always incredibly cautious not to be in the same room as Dad and me at the same time – she must have been afraid that I would spill the beans. I never really conversed with her, there wasn't much to talk about anyway – sex, maybe … she would know all about that, of course. It had been almost two weeks since I walked in on her cheating on Dad – and yes, I am still scarred.

Two weeks, and Charlotte is still on my case – I hadn't even done anything wrong! I just so happen to be moderately good at volleyball and suddenly she decides that I am a threat to her. Honestly! The female species needs to get a grip on themselves – and yes, I have gathered that I am, in fact, female. What annoys me most is that she thinks she's getting to me when she ever so subtly trips me up in the corridors, hisses an insult my way or graffitis my locker. It doesn't actually bother me – because I know for a fact that Paul gives her permanent evils, which is the most scary thing I have ever witnessed. Because of these glares, I have made sure not to purposely anger Paul – which I did ever so foolishly four days ago. I had been talking to Mauve – as you do when you have no other living soul to socialize with – and she had blurted out how Paul seemed to be giving me an awful lot of his attention. And, of course, I brushed off this conclusion, telling her that she was exaggerating. But that didn't stop her going on about it, annoying me slightly more than she should have. Irritated, and angered at her constant babbling, I snapped back a long, dragged out complaint that Paul was being stalker-like and wouldn't leave me alone – and now, remembering back to what I had said, it had been a bit harsh. But much to my misfortune Paul had heard every single word of it, and cornered me at the end of class – no dazzling smile for me put it that way. And, I've got to admit it, I was slightly intimidated and scared as he towered above me, glaring down at me. Then he started – he didn't shout, but I could hear the anger in his voice – he went on about how inconsiderate I was, he was practically shaking – actually, he was shaking and I was too, but out of fright. I had been about to snap back, but Embry and Quil immediately dragged him off, not bothering to issue a word of acknowledgment. I didn't see them for the rest of the day, which worried me slightly. And being the kind, considerate human I am, I apologized to Paul the next day. Correction, _he_ apologized to _me. _He practically knocked me over he was running so fast to catch me as I walked down the corridor to French. And all I managed to translate from the rapid, jumble of words that fell from his mouth was, 'I'm so, so sorry, Ruby.' And I didn't even know what he was sorry for.

Life in Forks was beginning to get a bit more settled – if you rule out my mothers adultery, Paul's consistent protectiveness over me and my weird mood swings. Nothing out of the ordinary had been happening at school, and I had a lot of spare time on my hands, which I normally spent going for walks and jogs through Forks, the forest and along the coast. Occasionally I would meet up with Brie to work on the Art project that we had been assigned, and we would go out for dinner in Forks afterwards. Paul was constantly pestering me – wondering what I was for doing at the weekend and practically inviting himself over on countless occasions, unexpectedly too. It didn't bother me that I was slowly becoming more friendly with Paul but I still didn't trust him. I trusted nobody. Nobody knew _everything_ about me, and that was how I wanted it to stay. And my theory about guys was slowly going to the dogs. I could find no fault with Paul, apart from his temper. But no matter how hard he tries to get closer to me, I'm not letting him in.

It was a Friday afternoon, and after being held up slightly on my way there, I was walking to my last class, which just so happened to also be my favourite – Art and Design. I had been getting on surprisingly well with Brie. Yeah, she was bubbly and outgoing, but also a good listener and caring person. She seemed to be like a Mary Sue in a story, you know, the ones that are perfect, with no flaws whatsoever. But even still, we had a lot in common. Kim, my Trig partner, was also quickly becoming my friend. She was quiet and subdued, very kind and sweet, but a little cocky once she got to know you. Ever since she had started inviting me to sit with her at lunch – she would subtly make sure that the only seat left was beside Paul. I was beginning to have a slight feeling that she was trying to set us up.

Anyhow, I made my way down the corridor towards Art, politely shoving my way past others standing in my way. My bag was bumping against my thigh, and the file in my hand kept wanting to shed loose pages; it was an awkward walk to my last class of the day. When I finally made it through the door, everyone was seated and Miss Adams had already begun to explain what our next assignment was. I made a face of apology as I quietly opened the door and shuffled through. 'Sorry I'm late, Miss Adams – got stuck in traffic,' I said, noticing her smile – almost in a forgiving way, before nodding and continuing with her speech. I quickly made my way to my seat, accidentally clipping people over the head with my file as I brushed past their desks to my own, which, coincidentally was at the other side of the room. I could see Brie, her hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking, obviously in fits of giggles at my awkward entrance. I rolled my eyes, 'It's really not that funny, Brie,' I whispered loudly as I collapsed onto my seat beside her, before sighing deeply.

'Yes it is!' Brie said, muffling her laughter. 'You should have seen Peter's face when you knocked him on the back of the head with that massive file of yours! I've never seen someone look so disgusted in my life!' Brie said quickly, at almost a whisper. Well, Brie's whispers aren't really whispers, she just talks a tad bit quieter than what she normally does – which is loud. 'Why are you so late anyway? The traffic wasn't _that_ bad,' she said with a knowing look before turning to face Miss Adams, who was still rambling on about the project.

I paused for a moment. 'I … got _caught up_,' I said simply, ignoring the incredulous look she threw me momentarily before glancing back to face Miss Adams. Then she gasped, as if something had dawned on her. She snapped her head in my direction, her mouth agape. I made a face of confusion, baffled at why she was so .. surprised. 'What?'

Brie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. I stared at her, before rolling my eyes. Did she honestly think that I would shack up with a guy right before class? Clearly she doesn't know me at all. She looked at me with expectancy and I looked away, attempting to listen to Miss Adams. 'Well?' Brie asked urgently. 'Who was the lucky guy?'

'It wasn't a guy, Brie.'

I almost laughed at her gobsmacked expression. She opened her mouth to speak, before shutting it abruptly. 'Oh …' she said simply, and I could have sworn I saw her move her chair further away from me. I shook my head, and chuckled.

'I don't have a disease, Brie,' I said, grabbing the side of her chair and pulling it closer to me. The expression on her face was priceless. Clearly she was uncomfortable about the fact that I supposedly liked girls. I was incredibly tempted to start humming 'I Kissed A Girl', just to declare that her suspicions where true. But I decided not to. 'And I'm not gay either.'

Her rigid posture slouched slightly, and she sighed. She glanced at me, a somewhat apologetic expression on her face. 'I'm glad your not – I was getting a bit uncomfortable,' Brie said honestly, 'Especially when you pulled my chair closer to yours.' She mock glared at me, as I chuckled, proud that she had actually believed that I was gay. But then she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. 'Why were you late then?'

'Because I ran into Charlotte.'

Brie's eyes widened, 'What happened?' she gasped.

'Well, she seemed to think that I was trying to sway Paul against her – I didn't even know she liked him like that! But anyway – I was on my way here and Charlotte and her band of barbies cornered me by my locker,' I explained, Brie was listening attentively. 'So, yeah, she started going on about how I was 'corrupting' Paul – that was how she put it – I laughed in her face and told her she was loosing her mind … She didn't take that well and snapped back, but this time insulting me –'

'You didn't hit her, did you?' Brie interrupted, knowing that I have a temper and it wasn't the smartest thing in ignite it.

'I'm getting to that part – yeah, so I got annoyed. You know how I am, I don't take insults well so I insulted her back – apparently that wasn't a good idea. She just, sort of, jumped on me – claws and all. So … we sorta clawed at each other for a while until I punched her, she fell back and banged her head on the lockers – and I ran for it,' I said with a shrug, whilst Brie stared at me in either admiration or skepticism. A sudden scraping of chairs throughout the classroom suggested that Miss Adams had finished her speech and the others in the class were dispersing to collect their works from the walls.

'You're okay though?' Brie asked me, and I could see her surveying my body for any signs of injury. She glanced up, meeting eye contact with me once more. She generally did look anxious – that she cared about me. Maybe I should give up on not finding friends and just move on from everything I have ever doubted. Anyway, I was already under the impression that I now had more than one friend.

I smiled, not just from the fact that Brie actually cared. 'Got a couple of scratches – probably a few bruises too – I'll live,' I said simply, shrugging.

Brie chuckled and shook her head, clearly incredulous that I didn't care less about what injuries I might have. 'That's good – oh! I knew I had something to tell you,' she said suddenly in a rather excited tone. 'Kevin – you know, that guy in our French class –' I nodded, trying to picture who he was, '– he's throwing a house party tomorrow night and, well, you're going!'

'What?' I asked her, narrowing my eyes. From what I heard, apparently I was for going to this .. Kevin's house party on Saturday night. The last time I went to a house party I got into a rather negatively compromising position – it wasn't something I wanted to remember put it that way.

'I'll pick you up at about … eight,' Brie said, ignoring my question. I could see her thinking for a while, then she glanced at me. 'Actually – scratch that. I'll be at your house at four tomorrow with the outfit that I'm wearing to the party and I can help you pick your outfit!' she said, rather too thrilled about the prospect of dragging me to a party.

'I'm not going,' I said immediately.

Brie stared sternly at me. 'Yes you are – you need to be more sociable! And this party is the perfect way to meet people,' she said with a broad grin.

'But I don't want to meet people!' I countered.

Brie pouted, but continued to glare sternly at me, 'I'll be at yours at four tomorrow afternoon,' she said, before standing up and wandering over to the art wall, leaving me sitting at the table on my own. I huffed and narrowed my eyes irritatedly – it was obvious I wasn't getting out of this one. Sullenly, I pulled myself out of my chair and went to grab a paintbrush from the cupboard and begin the water-colour I had been meaning to start. I knew that Brie was only trying to help me be more sociable – but it wasn't something I was. I used to be, before I got shunned, used and lied to – that's when I decided that I had had enough and started being the unsociable reject who spoke to nobody. And it was all because of that that my family ended up in forks – just because my Dad actually noticed that I was … depressed, as such. I was also surprised at the fact that he went and spoke to the principal of my old school about it – he was obviously genuinely concerned.

'It'll be good, you know.' I physically jumped from the shock as someone suddenly interrupted my daydream. I glanced over my shoulder noticing Mark, Brie's cousin, standing behind me. I managed a smile and turned back to collecting a decent set of water-colour paints. 'You don't seem very happy about being dragged along,' Mark spoke up, as he moved beside me and began cluttering about with the paintbrushes.

'I'm _not_ happy about being dragged along – but it doesn't look like Brie is going to back down,' I said, glancing over at her as she sat down at our desk. She looked up, made eye contact with me and smiled. Something inside me almost made me forgive her there and then – I could tell she wasn't like my old friends. I sighed – I was already defeated anyway. 'Guess I better get used to Brie taking me places from now on,' I said, looking up at Mark with a knowing look before gathering everything I needed and walking over to were Brie was sketching.

'Talking to Mark?' She asked, though it was more of an observation. She didn't look up from what she was sketching – but I murmured a confirmation and sat down beside her. 'I think he likes you, you know,' Brie stated – I glanced sidewards at her and she was sat up, admiring what she had done but paid no interest in what I was doing. I continued to stare at her blankly until she finally cracked and looked at me. 'I'm being serious, Ruby. I've never seen him look at someone like the way he does to you,' she said, as I shook my head with a chuckle and looked away from her. 'At least give him a chance, Ruby.'

'Brie – are you _setting me up_ with your cousin?' I asked, although I knew that was exactly what she was trying to do.

'Yes, I am. I think you would be good together,' Brie said, sticking her nose in the air and turning away from me. I rolled my eyes and ignored her stubborn antics before beginning to dab the paintbrush onto the canvas. 'Urgh – please, Ruby. I mean, look at you – you're stunning! You deserve a guy!'

'Yeah, but I don't _want one_,' I replied. Out of the corner of my eye I watched her roll her eyes in exasperation. 'It's not your fault, Brie. Just because I want to grow old and gray alone –'

'Don't be so stupid, Ruby Taylor! You know what your problem is – you're just stubborn and impossible to persuade,' Brie snapped, and I bowed my head, just because I knew she was right. 'And don't even think you can weasel your way out of going to this party because I will drag you there by your ankles if I have to!' And with that, was the end of the conversation. She was worse than my mother! Actually, no, she was like the mother I never had.

The bell rang for the end of class, and thankfully the end of the day. In my enthusiasm to get out, I almost threw my paints over Brie as I rushed towards the sink. She didn't think much of it, but brushed it off with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes. I quickly made my way to my locker, cautiously avoiding any signs of Charlotte – just in case she had decided she wanted to murder me. At any rate, when I made it to my locker, I was quite pleased that I made it there without a scratch. That was until I saw my locker. I growled – slightly annoyed obviously. Apparently I'm a 'fucking whore'. What a lovely gesture of someone to write that on my locker in permanent marker. If Charlotte had been smarter she would have thought of something other than 'fucking whore' to graffiti on my locker because I don't think people have actually seen me talking to more than four guys. Clearly she was trying to stereotype me as being something I'm not – stupid bitch. I slammed my locker door shut and rushed out towards the parking lot. I brushed past people gathered on the pavement, gossiping and made my way across the lot, making sure to watch for moving cars.

'Ruby! Ruby – wait!' A voice called from behind me and almost immediately I was joined by Paul, who wore the same massive grin he always did around me. I looked up at him, a slightly cautious expression on my face. 'Hey,' he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

I laughed at his somewhat unnecessary reason for calling after me. 'Hi Paul,' I replied, as we walked through the parking lot towards my car. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking up at him, expecting him to ask or tell me something of importance. He had a slightly nervous look about his face, so I decided to insinuate the conversation myself. 'Did you want something?' I asked him, with a mischievous smile.

He made an indecisive expression, before humming to himself. 'Yes, I did actually,' he said, and he seemed incredibly excited about the process of asking me this .._ thing_. I looked up at him, unable to contain my amusement at his unusually, extremely, blissful mood. 'What's so funny?' he asked me, knitting his eyebrows together, but still smiling.

'You are,' I replied with a smug, little smile. I noticed that he found this statement quite positive because his pearly, white teeth almost blinded me when he grinned with delight. 'So .. what was this thing you wanted?' I asked him as we ambled slowly towards my still shiny Mercedes.

'Well ... I actually wanted to invite you to a Bonfire on Saturday night,' Paul said, and I looked up at his hopeful face with wide eyes. I was being invited to two social events on the same night – boy, I must have got popular overnight! Paul seemed to have caught on to my sudden quietness, 'It's just me, a couple of the guys like Quil and Embry and some of the Quiluete Elders. I could pick you up and everything if you wanted,' he offered.

'Um .. Paul, I – uh – '

'OI RUBES! REMEMBER I'LL BE AT YOUR HOUSE AT FOUR TOMORROW! AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT RUNNING OFF – YOU ARE GOING TO THAT PARTY!' Brie yelled from across the parking lot, grinning and giving me the thumbs up before slumping into the passenger seat of Mark's car.

I closed my eyes and groaned – not exactly the best way to turn down Paul's invitation to the bonfire. I slowly opened my eyes and peered up at Paul. 'Sorry – not exactly the best way for you to find out,' I said, smiling up at him apologetically. He wasn't even looking at me – he was content in glaring at the space in which Mark's car had been. 'Brie is just dragging me along to this party and I had promised her last week that I would go out with her sometime so this is her part of the deal and – '

'Kevin Newman's party? Do you even know what happens at house parties, Ruby? It's not safe – I would prefer it if you came to the bonfire instead,' Paul said angrily, through gritted teeth. I stared up at him – who was he to tell me what to do. 'I don't even want to imagine what that sleaze has planned. He'll get you drunk and – '

'Excuse me? Are you suggesting that this Kevin is going to get me drunk and shag me in his mother's bedroom?' I snapped, shocking Paul with the words that had just rolled off my tongue. 'I can take care of myself, Paul – '

'Sure you can take care of yourself, Ruby – you're just so good at making sure you don't have too much to drink! Remember what happened last time you had alcohol?' Paul countered, looking down at me with wide, knowing eyes. I rolled my own eyes, turned away from him and walked towards my car – ignoring him as he followed me. 'Stop being impossible, Ruby! I'm just trying to make sure you don't hurt yourself – the least you could do is not go to the party!'

I growled, and spun around, banging my face into his chest. I stepped backwards before looking up at him with my deadliest glare. 'You can't stop me from going to the party, Paul! It's my decision! I didn't actually want to go but now you've completely changed my mind! Yes, I know how bad house parties can get but – hell, I just wanna go and get blocked now! –' I narrowed my eyes, '– Just to annoy you – '

'That is completely irresponsible, Ruby! I care about you and you're just throwing it in my face!' Paul shouted, and I could see him getting physically irritated with me.

'If you cared about me, you would let me do what I wanted to do,' I countered, folding my arms across my chest stubbornly and watching him carefully for a reaction. 'If you cared, you wouldn't be stopping me from going to the party.'

'Now you're talking crap, Ruby,' Paul snapped, 'That would be showing that I didn't care – and trust me, I bloody well do care about you!'

I groaned and threw my hands in the air, frustrated that I was getting nowhere in this argument. 'Well then _stop caring_!' I yelled.

'I can't do that, Ruby!'

'And why the hell not?'

'BECAUSE I CAN'T, RUBY! I CAN'T!' Paul roared loudly, that was the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice as loud as he did then. It was so loud that it made me jump from the shock of it. I watched him, he was shaking all over – rather like when we had had the argument about me being inconsiderate. He was breathing heavily, his fists were clenched and his eyes tightly shut as if he was battling against something. I moved forward to check he was okay, then he looked up. 'You wouldn't understand, Ruby – but I _can't_ stop caring about you.'

**Hope you liked the chapter! **

**Yes, I know it has been a while, but I have been sooooo busy with school, coursework and hockey! But I finally got time this week because I had been in hospital since Monday because I got hit by a car – but I'm fine!! Got back home on Thursday afternoon. **

**Anyway … REVIEWS are really appreciated – tell me what you think etc. It's probably not one of my best chapters but I'm just getting over writers block! Tori xx **


	6. Terrorized

Chapter Six

Three fifty-seven. The minutes seemed to be getting longer as I waited to be submerged under Brie's blanket of madness. I sat in the living room, alone – mother and father had taken the weekend to Seattle leaving me in the house on my own. Not that I was complaining. I preferred it that way. Three fifty-eight. I drummed the tips of my fingers on the arm of the sofa, anticipating Brie's arrival. Normally, she would be exactly on time, but I didn't count on it all of the time. Three fifty-nine. I definitely wasn't looking forward to being Brie's barbie for four long, dreaded hours – and somehow I wished I had accepted Paul's invitation to the bonfire instead of going to the party. I felt regret. Yes, I regretted driving off in a huff straight after he told me he cared about me. And that was still a mystery to me – how could someone I've known for no longer than two weeks care about me so intensely? It could be a lie for all I knew. It was all so confusing. I didn't know what to think. Some days I would find myself thinking about him sub-consciously and thinking about his motives for becoming so friendly with me. Other days I was acting towards him like he was a piece of dog shit stuck to the bottom of my shoe because he had pissed me off in some way or another. Ahh, the wonderful invention of the teenage hormone. In other words; every teenager's nightmare. It would crawl up on you unexpectedly and either make you weirdly happy or depressed. I glanced up at the clock on the wall – it was now one minute past four. Brie was late. I was beginning to hope that she had forgotten all about coming to my house at all. But I had a feeling that wasn't the case at all.

It was now five minutes past four, and that was when I heard a car pulling up outside the house. Brie had arrived. I stood up, and made my way out of the living room, into the hallway and began to walk towards the front door. I undid the lock, and pulled the door open, 'Oh my god, Brie –' I stopped. Brie wasn't standing in front of me; Paul was. I studied him for a while, slightly confused at his unexpected arrival. 'Paul?' Yes, that's his name you goon. 'Uhh .. what are you doing here?' I finally asked him, raising my eyebrow suspiciously.

'Listen, Ruby … I'm really sorry for yelling at you yesterday, I don't know what came over me,' Paul said, running a hand through his hair and staring at me with an apologetic expression. 'I just wanted to check that you were okay, you kinda rushed off without saying anything – I was going to come over and see you yesterday after school, but the guys said to let you be for a while so I though I would come over today. And I did and .. – um – here I am,' he said quickly, and rather awkwardly. I have to admit, I did laugh at his over all embarrassing speech.

I shook my head, 'You didn't need to come over and see me, Paul. I'm fine, it's all the hormones, you know – I don't know when I'm going to laugh or cry most of the time,' I said, with a small, awkward chuckle. There was silence between us for a while, then I decided to end it. 'D'you wanna come in for a while? Until Brie arrives at least,' I suggested, moving out of the doorway to let him into the house.

'Sure,' Paul said quickly and a little too enthusiastic for my liking, but nonetheless, I gestured for him to come in. He was grinning widely now, his pearly white teeth on show, almost blinding me as the light from the hall shone on them. I pondered on the thought of him being in one of those toothpaste adds – with him starring in it all the woman in the U.S would certainly watch it. 'You mentioned Brie coming over? Sleepover or something?' he asked with a certain interest as I guided him into the kitchen.

'Not exactly,' I muttered, trying my damned hardest not to mention that I was going to Kevin's party. 'Do you want anything to eat? – Oh, sit down if you want,' I said awkwardly, pointing to the table and chairs. I watched him as he pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down, resting his elbows on the table top. I raised my eyebrow as he made himself comfortable – that was when he looked up at me and caught me by surprise. I froze and opened my mouth – most definitely resembling a goldfish. 'Um …' Now I was feeling utterly stupid, 'Do you want something to _eat_?'

'Okay,' he answered simply; I just stared at him. What was I going to offer a six foot giant to eat?

'Anything in particular?'

'I'll eat anything.'

I raised my eyebrow, and nodded my head slowly. 'Right,' I said, dragging the word out, before turning around to face the cupboards and worktops of the kitchen. I nearly freaked – What was I going to feed him?! I mentally hit myself. Who cares what I feed him, it's my house – he'll eat what I give him. So, I went to the fridge and reached in for my stash of cadbury's chocolate bars before chucking one at him and catching him by surprise. 'Hope you like chocolate,' I said plainly.

'Who doesn't? Although, I haven't tried this chocolate before,' Paul said as he unraveled the tiny piece of heaven from its wrapper.

My eyes widened; he hadn't ever had a cadbury's chocolate bar?! What a freak! Well, he's not – but he is; he's abnormally tall. Oh shut up, brain. I found it _slightly weird_ that he had never tasted such a delicious treat before. 'Well .. you do not know what you're missing out on!' I said excitedly, pulling out the seat opposite him from under the table. I watched him, anticipating a reaction as he put the piece of chocolate in his mouth. He chewed for a while; I continued to watch him. Then he started coughing, and gagging; I stared. Was he _choking_? Was he allergic to it? Oh Holy Mother of Mary – I've _killed_ him! I quickly got up from my chair and rushed over to him, 'Paul? Paul? Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?'

Then his shoulders started shaking; he was laughing. Clearly this was all just a joke. I narrowed my eyes, not even slightly amused. 'You should have seen your face!' he said, spluttering between laughter. I rolled my eyes, and returned to my seat, watching him with a scathing look.

'Real mature,' I said, folding my arms. 'Did you just do that to annoy me?'

Suddenly his expression turned serious, panicked almost. 'No – No, Ruby. I – I was just … just being stupid,' Paul said, shaking his head as though he was pissed with himself. 'I'm sorry I _scared _you, Ruby – ' I shot him an annoyed look, and his smirk disappeared. 'Will you forgive me?'

'No,' I replied bluntly, staring at him earnestly. Two can play that game, Mr Walker. His jaw dropped, and his expression was worried, and very, very apologetic. What exactly did I do to have him wrapped around my little finger?

'But, Ruby – I – I didn't mean to –'

I began to laugh, and wiped a fake tear of mirth away from my eye. 'You should have _seen_ your face, Paul! Priceless!' I cackled, now it was his turn to get annoyed. I pouted, 'Aww .. is Paul annoyed? Did big, bad Ruby irritate Mr Paul?' I said in a mock baby voice. He hadn't even cracked a smile yet; I was getting worried. He remained staring at me, stony faced. I was hoping he wouldn't explode in the middle of the kitchen, 'coz he was looking like a bomb ready to go off. I sighed, 'Paul?'

'Yes?' he asked through clenched teeth.

I rolled my eyes frustratedly. 'Oh grow up, you big hypocrite!'

'I am _not_ being a hypocrite! What you did was just uncalled for and unreasonable!' Paul shouted, his ears practically steaming. God, he overreacts something shocking. All I did was call him a hypocrite – which is what he is!

'Oh _come on_! You are _such_ a hypocrite! It's alright for you to go pulling stunts like that, but when I do exactly the same, it's uncalled for!' I yelled back, 'You're acting like a five year old!'

'Oh yeah? Well who's the one who drove off in a huff because I told her I cared about her?' Paul countered and I gasped – that was nothing to do with this argument. I glared at him and quickly and brashly got off my seat, picking up out glasses and walking over to the sink with them. 'I believe that was you, _Ruby_. And you tell me I act like a five year old; I think you should look in the mirror.'

I ignored him, not wanting to get in a fight in my own bloody house. I sent him one last glare and began to clean – yes, clean. I steeped the glassed in the soapy water in the basin of the sink. Then I decided to clean the rest of the kitchen. I totally forgot about Paul being there as I was more preoccupied with cleaning the worktops.

'So, what's your favourite colour?'

I jumped, only realizing then that Paul was still in the room. I furrowed my eyebrows; what was my favourite colour? What sort of question is that? And I though he was angry with me, apparently not. I turned around, to see him watching me interestedly and expecting an answer. 'What is this? Twenty questions?' I asked, turning around and leaning against the counter. He nodded simply, with a small smile on his face. I shook my head, and sighed, 'Hmm... I have lots of favourite colours – it changes everyday.'

'What's your favourite colour today then?' Paul asked me with his eyebrow raised. He just really wants to know, doesn't he. Consistent or what?

'Um … red?' I said unsurely, because I generally didn't think about what my favourite colour was that often and I just picked that random colour out of the sky. Paul started grinning – I couldn't put my finger on why exactly. I blinked and distorted my face in confusion. I just looked at him. Then it hit me. His _t-shirt_ was _red_. Ohh balls! What an asshat, I am. Now he thinks … _oh my god_. Perfect. Bloody fantastic that it.

'It's your turn now,' Paul said suddenly; I looked at him blankly. 'You know, to ask me a question.'

I though for a while, I hate being put under pressure on the spot. My mind seems to go blank. 'Um...' I said, stopping because I didn't have a clue what to ask. 'Um .. What –' Then there was a loud knock, presumably from the front door. I glanced down the hall. Brie had arrived! I mentally jumped for joy at the prospect of not having to ask Paul a question. Mostly because I would most likely ask him something embarrassing and _uncalled for _as he put things. 'OH! That's Brie!' I said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, forgetting that Paul was still sitting there. 'Sorry, Paul. I guess we're gonna have to resume this some other time,' I said, trying my best to look disheartened.

Paul admittedly looked sad at the prospect of having to leave, but willingly stood up. 'It's okay, just promise we'll do this again – maybe you'll come to mine next time though?' he asked hopefully, with a encouraging smile.

'We'll see,' I said, uncertainly. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and I walked ahead of him into the hall. 'It was nice to you to drop by, and see how I was. And maybe we'll try not to argue next time, right?' I said, with a chuckle.

Paul laughed; his husky chuckle sent a tingle down my spine. I closed my eyes, wishing it would go away. 'I think that's probably a good idea,' he said, running a hand through his hair. 'Sure have fun at … wherever you're going – hey, you never mentioned what you were doing.'

I felt my heart sink; now he's going to go into 'protective mode' when I tell him that I was for still going to Kevin's party. 'Erm … well, Brie and I were –'

'RUBY!' I snapped my head towards the door, and Brie was attempting to get through the door with countless numbers of bags. 'Sorry,' she said sheepishly, 'I just couldn't wait any longer! I was getting soaked out there!' she said, finally looking up to see Paul. A grin erupted onto her face, and she glanced at me, her expression full of suggestiveness to which I rolled my eyes. 'Hi Paul!'

'Hey Brie,' Paul replied, looking at me for some sort of explanation as the blonde haired girl dumped two bags in the hallway before rushing back out to her car again.

I finally plucked up the courage to tell him. 'Well, we're going to – '

'Ruby? You couldn't help me with this, could you? It's got my outfit for Kevin's party in it and I don't want it to get wet,' Brie said loudly from outside the front door.

I groaned – how was it that Brie always had perfect timing, or rather imperfect timing. A growl erupted from Paul's throat, and I grimaced. I looked up at him apologetically, but before I could say anything, he had ran out of the house, brushing brashly past Brie almost knocking her over. 'PAUL! WAIT!' I shouted after him, rushing towards the door. I looked out into the pouring rain, searching for him – but he was gone.

'_What _was_ that _all about?' Brie asked incredulously from behind me.

I turned around, slightly annoyed that Paul had just rushed off without an explanation – or an explanation from me. I sighed and shook my head, 'Paul was just overreacting … _again_.'

***

'Brie … there is no way in _hell _you are getting me to go to a party looking like this!' I exclaimed, as I surveyed myself in the full length mirror I have in my room. Brie had me wearing skin tight, wet look, black leggings, a tight-fitting, red top and killer black heels. I thought I looked like a hooker; Brie thought otherwise. Okay, the leggings and heels made my legs look long and slender, but the top showed _way_ to much cleavage for my liking.

Brie snorted, 'Well suck it up, Taylor – you're wearing it whether you like it or not.' At least she had nothing to complain about! She was wearing a purple, halterneck mini-dress and killer heels like mine, but she didn't look like a hooker in the slightest. I continued to fiddle with my outfit, and Brie sighed loudly from behind me. 'You look amazing, Ruby – you're just too used to wearing jeans and a frumpy hoody everywhere.'

I gaped at her. 'Well, no one seems to care that I wear_ jeans_ and a _frumpy hoody_ all the time!'

'That's because no one notices you,' Brie said, nudging me over so that she could take a peek at herself in the full length mirror. 'Tonight, people will notice you because you're wearing something totally out of your league but you look amazing anyway,' she said with a grin. I looked at her in the mirror, my face full of uncertainly. 'Would I lie to you, Rubes?'

I chuckled, 'I guess not.'

'Exactly! Now. I'm ready, you're ready – we really should go or else we'll be late,' Brie said, fluffing her hair up and pouting one last time in the mirror. She turned around clapping her hands together. 'Come on! Let's go! Let's go!' she said excitedly, grabbing her bag from my dressing table and smoothing down her dress.

'You can't be late for house parties, Brie,' I said, glancing at myself in the mirror and wishing I wasn't wearing the cleavage enhancing bra that Brie had shoved in my face and forced me to wear. I grimaced, praying to God that no one would notice it was me at the party.

Brie tutted and rolled her eyes, 'Well, we can just be early then.'

'Great. Now that won't be awkward in the slightest,' I said sarcastically as I followed her out of my bedroom and down the stairs.

'Oh stop moaning!' Brie groaned, throwing her hands in the air. She turned around as she reached the bottom of the stairs. 'Please try and enjoy yourself tonight, Ruby. I know you're not exactly the most social type but at least try to make an effort,' she said, and she pouted sadly, presumably to try and get me to be compassionate and make the promise.

I raised my eyebrow and she groaned, stomping her foot and turning around before making her way to the front door. I tutted and followed her. 'Fine! I shouted after her as she rushed out to her car. 'I promise I'll make an effort!'

'Good! Now get in the bloody car, you stupid idiot!' Way raise my self esteem, Brie.

***

Well, we weren't exactly late. But as we pulled up outside Kevin's house, the party seemed to be in full swing. All the lights were on in the house and they seemed to be lighting up the whole cul-de-sac. Music was blasting loudly, and there was a loud chatter from inside the house. There seemed to be hundreds of people there; inside, outside and littering the nearby street. Most of them had drink in their hands, laughing and getting along with whoever they were standing beside. I quickly glanced at Brie who turned off the car; she was grinning excitedly. 'This is going to be awesome!' she squealed, undoing her belt and opening her door. I took one last glance at the house which seemed to be almost bouncing because of the blaring music, before sighing and following Brie out of the car. With a click of her keys, she locked the door and began walking up the path leaving me standing whilst I self-consciously pulled up my low-cut top. She glanced back at me, a devilish grin on her face as she made her way through the front door. I rolled my eyes and followed her. A few people I recognized from school waved or said hello; I simply smiled back. I made my way through the front door, squeezing past people who were standing on the hallway.

'Ruby? Is that you, Ruby?' someone called my name from through the crowds of people in the living room. I glanced around attempting to find who had been calling my name. Then I seen Mark, shoving his way through the living room, two bottles of beer in his hands. He grinned and handed me a bottle, to which I managed a small smile and unwillingly took the bottle from his hand. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to get drunk at a house party, and perhaps give myself a reputation. 'Glad to see you came – Brie didn't physically drag you, did she?' he asked, before taking a swig of beer.

'Oh .. no she didn't. Although she nearly drove off without me because I didn't promise to 'make an effort and be sociable'. Honestly, it's not as if I'm going to make friends with some drunken teenager; they'll probably forget about me the next morning!' I said, making my point perfectly clear that I wasn't in the mood to make a new best friend. Which was true, of course. I glanced down at the bottle in my hand, and decided that it wouldn't do me any harm before taking a large gulp of it.

'Well you should enjoy yourself at the very least,' Mark said, glancing at me and hinting that maybe he was the one I should enjoy myself with. Not for happening. I am not having another memorable house party, for all the wrong reasons. I smiled a little uncomfortably, and he seemed to have spotted this. 'Just let your hair down, have a couple of drinks, get to know people. Trust me, these parties are a great way to forget about school stuff.'

Well, he was right in a sense – but the last time I drank excessively didn't turn out too well. 'I guess so,' I replied, suddenly feeling the atmosphere between us become very awkward. I looked down at my hands which were clasping the beer bottle so tight, I was surprised I hadn't smashed it to pieces.

'So .. uh.. do you wanna dance? Or get another drink or something?' Mark asked suddenly, and I glanced up at him.

I nodded, 'Another drink would be nice,' looking down at the half empty bottle in my hands. Clearly I wasn't going to remember a lot about tonight.

And so, one drink became two. Two became three. Three became too many to count. And then everything was out of control. Even Me.

_'I don't need no good advice...'_

Sweaty bodies, everywhere in the humid room. I was jumping up and down, singing along to the music, my hands in the air. It was crowded. Every so often I'd get an elbow in the gut, or bumped into by another clumsy person affected by alcohol. I was just as bad. But I wasn't fooled by the 'unintentional' occasional feel of my ass, or a hand brushing my boobs. I knew fine rightly that was intentional, but I was too plastered to care.

_'I'm already wasted...' _

How true.

_'I don't need some other life...'_

I felt hands. Wandering my body from behind me. Hot breath, smelling of the sickly sweet alcohol it had been poisoned by, tickling my neck. Arms were secure around me now, pulling me back towards a wall. A body. Hips were still moving to the beat of the music, rubbing against me. I felt enclosed. No where to run. No where to hide. It was rather intimidating.

'I'm very .. eh .. _glad_ that you came to this party, Ruby Taylor.' The voice was low and slurred, attempting a sort of seductive tone, which wasn't working too well. I didn't reply. I don't think I had enough will power or consciousness to string a few words together. '_Very_ glad.' Lips. Making their way from my shoulder, up my neck and towards my jaw. I automatically moved my head to the side, feeling the soft, slightly moist lips nip the skin of my neck. 'Mmmm … you _smell_ nice, Ruby.'

I bowed my head, uncomfortable with the lustful voice hissing in my ear. I bit my lip, 'Um .. thanks?' I was beginning to sober up pretty quickly. The precarious situation seemed to be overpowering my drunkenness. The music was still blaring, I was finding it hard to concentrate. Not to mention thoughts were flowing around chaotically in my head.

'No need to thank me … _but_ you could reward me by resuming this upstairs,' he suggested, rubbing a hand up and down my thigh softly. I flinched slightly as his hand continued to caress my leg. 'I think you would enjoy that,' he said, his breath hot in my ear.

'That's where I think you're wrong,' I said unwaveringly, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from my thigh. I tried to walk forward, but he continued to hold onto my waist firmly.

I spun around, slightly taken aback by the person standing before me. 'Let go of me, Mark,' I said darkly. He was pissed. Completely off his head. His eyes were drooping, and he could barely stand. I think that was part of the reason he was still holding onto me – to keep himself from falling flat on the floor. He smiled creepily. Not the usual nice smile. '_Let go of me_,' I repeated.

Mark scowled nastily. 'No. _No_ … I _won't_ let go of you.' He snapped his hand over my wrist, and yanked me closer to him. He leaned forward, drugged up and drunken, his eyes closed, his lips pouting.

I squirmed, and fought against his grip. 'GET OFF ME!' I screamed, trying to free my arms from his iron-like grip.

'Ah, ah, ahhhh,' Mark cooed, shaking his head and slapping a hand over my mouth. 'Not a good idea to scream, baby. Someone might hear you,' he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, wishing I had never come to this stupid party. I squirmed against him, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. 'Now, do as I say and don't struggle … or things might just get rough,' he hissed in my ear as he began to guide me out of the room, his hand still over my mouth. I shoved my shoulder into him fiercely, and tried to free myself as he dragged me out of the room. I was scared. He began to drag me towards the stairs, and out of desperation, I made my legs go limp and fell to the ground, his arms still wrapped tightly around my abdomen. 'Get up!' Mark snarled, pulling me effortlessly to my feet. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as he physically dragged me up the stairs, my legs rubbing against the rough carpet. My heels had come off, they lay abandoned on the steps of the stairs. 'You'll pay for all this – I told you not to struggle,' he growled, in my ear.

Tears escaped from my threshold, as his hands gripped around my arms and pulled me to my feet. One hand was gripping my upper arm, the other was now clasped tightly over my mouth once more and his breath was breathing down heavily on my neck as he guided me down the hall. It was dark. That made it worse. I couldn't see where I was going. But I knew where he was leading me. I whimpered, and tried to turn back, but he forced me forward and pushed me to the ground. I fell, landing on the rough carpet with a thud. I tried to crawl away, but I could see nothing. It was pitch black. I felt hands grabbing my shoulders, hard, from behind and I was pulled to my feet. I screamed, as an arm was wrapped around my neck, restricting my breathing and pulling me against him. I tried to slacken his grip with my fingers desperately. He lifted me fully off the ground so that my feet were dangling, I took this opportunity to kick them, attempting to meet contact with him if possible. He roamed his free hand, the one that wasn't wrapped around my neck, towards the waistband of my leggings.

I panicked and I could hear myself gasping, my breath getting caught in the back of my throat; I spluttered, 'No. No. Don't. Please stop.' His arm moved over my mouth, blocking the sound. I choked as I found it hard to breath because of the panic attack that was overpowering me. I continued to paw at his arm covering my mouth as he dragged me backwards a couple of steps. His fingers were rough as he pulled down my leggings. I cried in despair, and bit down hard on the skin of his arm. He yelped, but that did not deter him from yanking of the waistband my leggings down to my thigh. I kicked my legs, hoping that would put him off balance. Or something that would give me a chance to get away. Suddenly he fell backwards, with me on top of him. I though this might be my chance to get away. I was wrong. Within a few seconds, he had reversed our positions; he was on top of me. He was leaning in closely to me, our faces close. I spat in his face and and jerked my forehead forward – _crack! _- it's possible that I connected with his nose.

'Argh! Dat was by dose, you ditch!' Yes. I had connected with his nose. It hadn't been a good plan. Drips of liquid, blood I assumed, where dripping down onto my chest. He seemed undeterred by the fact that I had most probably broken his nose, and moved his hands roughly down my stomach. I tried to sit up, but he pushed me down, his hand on my chest, holding me against the mattress. He fumbled around in my crotch, eventually finding the waistband of my knickers, and pulling them down.

'STOP! PLEASE .. JUST GET OFF ME!' I screamed as loud as I possibly could. _Smack! _The sound came before the pain. He had just punched me in the face, hard. I whined, as blood came pouring out of my nose, and the pain shot through my face. I screamed again. _Smack!_

'Ib you don't schut ub, I'll fbucking murder you,' Mark growled in my ear. He pushed aside my underwear, going deeper. I whimpered, from pain and terror. I continued to squirm, even as his deathly glare dawned upon me. His fingers probed further, and I continued to squirm, attempting to sit up, but his palm was placed firmly on my chest.

'Please … please, Mark. Stop. Don't,' I cried, flailing my hands about, trying to find him. I sobbed, 'Don't please.' Then he was inside me. I screamed, 'STOP IT! STOP IT! PLEASE!' I tried to kick my legs from underneath him and squirm my body away from him. It was impossible. Every bit of his weight was on top of me, pressing against me. Suddenly his weight lifted slightly. I heard a zip. My eyes widened in terror. Then he was pressing against me once more, lifting one of my legs. 'Stop it. Stop it please,' I sobbed. He put a hand over my mouth, and smiled smugly. I could barely see because of the tears drowning my eyes.

There was a loud bang, and light flooded into the room. Suddenly, Mark was flung off me. There was a dull thud, and heavy breathing. I continued to sob. My heart was pounding, I sat up, and looked around; Mark was being held up against the wall of the room. 'Don't ever come anywhere near her again. Or I swear I _will_ murder you!' Anger radiated from him, he was shaking violently. But I had to only focus on me. I pulled up my underwear, and then my leggings. My hands were shaking; I was shaking all over.

'Paul. C'mon man, you can't crash a party. That's just uncool,' a voice came from the hallway; Embry appeared in the doorway. His eyes flashed from Paul practically strangling Mark to me, and then back to Paul. 'Dude, seriously, calm down.' He held his hands up, but Paul ignored him.

Mark choked, trying to slacken Paul's grip on his neck. 'She wanted it. No need to get jealous, Walker.' That put Paul over the edge. He let go of him, only to swing his fist back at Mark's face. He was shaking violently and growling.

'YOU WERE ALL OVER HER, YOU BASTARD!'

'Paul! You need to get out of here,' Embry grabbed Paul by the shoulder.

I couldn't stay there any longer. I needed to get out of there too. I was still sobbing; traumatized. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and tried to stand. My legs were wobbling beneath me, they could barely hold my weight. But I needed to get out of there. I was covered in my blood, and Mark's. It had dried on the skin of my neck and chest, my dress, my hands and surely my face as well. I walked slowly, towards where Embry was standing. I couldn't look at him, I concentrated on my breathing and the way out in front of me. I couldn't stop crying, I spluttered and broke into a run. I ran down the hall, and down the stairs, my tears blinding me. I pushed past people gathered at the bottom of the stairs, ans ran towards the door; it was closed. I opened it and was immediately hit with an icy blast of wind. The dark cold night frightened me, but anywhere would be better than this place. I ran out into the night, not knowing where to go.

I just ran. And ran. And ran. Then I could go on no longer. My feet ached, they were cold and numb. My breathing was heavy, I could hear myself gasping for air in the cold atmosphere. I was shivering, my teeth were chattering. I walked forward slowly; I was on a lane in the unknown. I had never seen this place before. I was surrounded by trees, that could only be identified by the moonlight that was shining down from above me. I sniffed and wiped my nose on my arm carelessly. I was lost and scared. Not an unfamiliar territory for me. I had hoped that when I left California, things would be better. That hadn't happened. The way things were going, they couldn't get much worse.

**It has officially been ages since I last updated .. I am very sorry about that, but I'm just so busy! Anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter! REVIEWS.. are very,very nice (: I'm not sure if I'm happy with this chapter or not, maybe it's because I haven't been writing in a while. But sure, I hope you like it anyway! Tori x**


	7. Divulgement

Chapter Seven

I was warm. That was the first thing I noticed. Other than the fact that I had been sleeping and was now awake. Awoken by voices; arguing. My head was thumping. From either the effect the alcohol had had on me, or that horrible memory which hadn't left me the entire night. It replayed over and over in my dreams. And I couldn't escape it. It was horrible. How could it be that I left California and a horrible life and moved to Forks, only to have things be made worse. It wasn't fair. I had a bad omen following me wherever I went; constantly bringing bad luck. I prayed for the day when good luck would come my way. I was hoping that day would be soon. That yesterday was the turning point, the worst things could get and that today would be a better day. That all the gloomy days were part of my past and would be overpowered by the better days to come. I could only hope.

I forced open my eyes, only to see yet more unfamiliar surroundings. Yes, I was in a bed and a comfortable one at that. The room had light yellow walls, and it was quite bare; possibly a guest room. Although, I was no guest. An intruder perhaps. I sat up, my head dizzying so badly I had to hold myself up. It was quiet, apart from the occasional yell as the arguing continued. I couldn't quite make out what the argument was about, but it seemed fiery and severe. I thought it best not to eavesdrop, so I tried my best to ignore it. It was only when I got distracted by the bed covers and I glanced down to inspect them, that I noticed I had been cleaned of all traces of blood and that my top had been changed into a light gray sweatshirt. For this I was thankful, and that the person could keep the top if they wanted, for I certainly didn't want it back. I wanted to get rid of all things that would remind me of the night before. But then I realized that it was me that had to forget it. I had to throw the memory from my brain and forget. It was harder than it seemed.

I pulled my knees to my chest and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. I hugged my knees tightly, and began to rock myself back and forth slightly. I continued to look around, searching the room for some sort of clue to where I was. But there was nothing that could really give away the destination of my captivity. Not that I was being held captive, at least I thought I wasn't. I had yet to meet the owner of this place, so I could not yet force a judgment upon them. There was a small window, covered by blue curtains. I felt the urge to walk over and let the light spill into the room. Rather like what I wish could happen to my life at the minute. Let the happy brightness overpower the dreary darkness. So that's what I intended to do. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and put my feet on the fluffy carpet. I stood up feeling weak. I didn't know whether or not I was, or if it was my mind playing tricks on me. I walked slowly across the room, careful to keep my footing. Although, I knew there was nothing I could trip on, but I felt as though I would fall over at any second. But I kept going, determined to make it to the window. As I walked across the room, my feet suffered. I barely remember running into nowhere without any shoes. My feet had obviously paid the price. Soon I made it to the window. I reached up my hands and pulled the curtains open; the sun shone into the room. I squinted; though found it hard not to gasp as pain shot through my face. Ignoring it, I turned my attention back to the open window. I vividly remember Forks ever being so sunny, so perhaps I wasn't in my little hometown. I gazed out the window, there was a few cars parked in the yard. A blue one, a silver one and a red one. The red one seemed so very familiar.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door. It seemed rude to be prying out a window when the person who let you sleep the night walks in, so I quickly jumped away from the window. 'Do you mind if I come in for a minute, Ruby?' the voice behind the door said. Female, was the person on the opposite side of the door, so I observed. And she seemed nice, from the tone of her voice. 'I just want to explain a couple of things, I know you're probably confused at how you got here and such.'

'Oh .. sure, come on in,' I replied shyly as I awaited the door to be opened and reveal the unknown person. Soon enough, the door opened slowly and I looked up to see a very beautiful woman. I smiled, and it was only when I looked back at her face that I saw the scars. Three long, prominent scars on her beautiful face. They cascaded from her cheek to her chin and curved with her laugh lines. I felt my jaw drop slightly, but quickly snapped it up. I smiled bashfully, and cursed myself for staring. 'Sorry … I – I – '

The woman smiled warmly and shut the door behind her. 'You don't need to be sorry,' she said reassuringly. 'I'm sure you weren't expecting it. I'm Emily,' she said, offering her hand, to which I took and shook slightly, before she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I think I like her. She seemed to be the very friendly type, motherly almost and her scars definitely did not affect her confidence. I actually admired the girl. And I had only just met her. 'How are you feeling? You were looking a bit peaky last night and you certainly were in a right state. So I cleaned you up, changed your top and gave you a sleeping pill – to ease the pain and help you sleep more comfortably.'

I smiled as she babbled on; she was a chatterbox. 'I'm fine thanks. Just a bit stiff, and my feet are a bit sore too,' I admitted. Well, there was no point telling a lie was there? She seemed nice enough, so maybe she would get me something for my feet. It wouldn't matter if she did or not, she'd already done enough. 'And thanks you so much for letting me stay the night and cleaning me up and stuff. I really appreciate it. Really,' I said earnestly. And to be honest, I was feeling a bit tearful. And I could feel the tears stinging my eyes when I said the word night. Last night. That horrible memory. I quickly brought my hand up to wipe the tears away from my eyes. 'Sorry …' I mumbled, bowing my head to hide my face.

'Oh Ruby, there's no need to be sorry. What happened isn't your fault,' Emily said comfortingly, pulling me into a hug. 'If you ever need someone to talk to about it, I'm here. Even if you just want a good cry. I can evacuate this place of men, grab a few weepy DVD's and a couple of tubs of ice cream and we can just spend the night crying over stupid things,' she said which made me giggle through my sobbing. She was being so nice to me, I had only met her five minutes ago and already she was acting like my sister. I sniffed, and wiped my face with my hands before taking a couple of deep breaths so compose myself. 'You feeling okay now?' I nodded, and gave her a watery smile. 'Like I said, now you know me – I'm always here if you want to talk.'

'Thank you, Emily. Really,' I said quietly, 'It's very nice of you considering – ' I choked on my breath, before taking a deep breath, '– considering, you barely know anything about me.'

Emily chuckled, which confused me slightly. 'I wouldn't be so sure of that. I've heard a lot about you, Ruby Taylor,' she said, with a beaming smile. I glanced up at her bewilderedly. It sounded rather a lot like I had some sort of stalker – which wasn't exactly what I needed right now. 'Well … I'm not supposed to give anything away, _but _Paul does talk about you quite a bit.' My eyes widened and I snapped my gaze towards her, and furrowed my eyebrows. 'Yes, I know Paul. And Quil, Embry, Seth and Jared. Unfortunately,' she said, and I laughed. 'Awk, no they're all really nice. Paul has temperament problems though, slightest thing will set him off –'

'I know all about that,' I said grimly, frowning.

'But that's not to say he's not lovely, because he is,' Emily said quickly, as if trying to persuade me. Which I though was quite cute. 'And anyway, I have noticed his temper deflating in the last couple of weeks … and well, I have been trying to figure out why since then. And now, it seems that I have found that reason,' she said, nudging me with her elbow. I smiled, and chuckled slightly. Well, it was more like breathing out heavily, you know, that type of laugh. 'He really likes you, you know.'

I felt myself blush madly, and just had to hid my face from Emily's gaze. 'Yeah … I sort of knew that but – I don't know – it was all so quick and I guess it scares me a bit,' I said honestly. I was confused, because I knew I liked him, but sometimes he could be irritating and too overprotective for only knowing me for about a month. 'Because ... I _do_ like him but the things that have happened to me have scared me and I – urggh – I just don't know.'

'Well, take this from someone who knows what it's like … you can try to resist him as much as you want, but in the end, you won't be able to,' Emily said wisely, as if she had been through me experiences. Surely she hadn't been through what I had been through. But she sounded as though she knew what she was talking about. I remained quiet, thinking through what she had just said, taking in every word as if it meant something. It might one day. Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, loud enough for Emily to hear and begin to chuckle. 'You sound like you're hungry. You can have a shower while I'm making you breakfast, sure –'

'Oh no, you really don't need to, Emily. You've already done so much,' I said, gratefully.

'I might as well finish the job and let you use my shower and make you breakfast,' Emily said, getting to her feet and making her way towards the door. 'I'll leave you in a towel and show you the bathroom,' she said, opening the door of the bedroom. This made the arguing easier to hear. Which wasn't at all beneficial.

'NO, YOU CAN'T SEE HER. YOU BROKE THE BOUNDARIES! YOU'RE ONE OF THE OLDEST MEMBERS OF THIS PACK AND YOU _CROSSED THE LINE_, PAUL!'

'I WASN'T GOING TO LET HER DIE IN THAT FOREST, SAM! I HAD TO SAVE HER; BOUNDARIES OR NO BOUNDARIES!'

I glanced up at Emily. She did not look happy whatsoever. 'Excuse me one moment, Ruby. I'll be back with a towel in a minute,' she said, turning on her heel and striding down the hallway. She seemed very angered, and I was certainly feeling a little bit scared for whoever she was for telling off. 'GET OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW! HOW DARE YOU START AN ARGUMENT WHEN WE HAVE A GUEST! GET OUT!'

'I'm sorry, Emily. Baby, I'm sorry I upset you – but Paul broke the boundaries and –'

'No. I don't want to hear it, Sam. If you have an argument, I don't want anywhere near my house, understand? I want my house in once piece, not a complete wreck if one of you slips! Now, if you will excuse me, Ruby is waiting for me down the hall and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer while I deal with overgrown children!' Emily snapped, and that was the end of that conversation, or so I thought.

'Emily – can I go and see how Ruby is? She looked so bad last night and I just –'

'No, Paul. She's going for her shower now, you'll see her when she comes down for breakfast. And I think it's best if you go outside and cool down,' I heard Emily say calmly. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and I turned my attention to inside the room. 'Sorry about that, Ruby. They just need someone to keep them in line,' she said, as she entered the room, a white towel in her hands. 'There you go –' she handed me the white towel, '– now the bathroom is just opposite and take as long as you want.'

I got to my feet and followed her as she guided me towards the bathroom. 'Thank you, Emily,' I said timidly and waited outside the bathroom.

Emily tutted and pushed me inside the bathroom impatiently, 'Now remember, take as long as you want. I'll have your breakfast ready when you're finished,' she said with a smile and closed the bathroom door behind me.

I looked around the small bathroom, which consisted of a toilet, wash hand basin and a bath with a shower head. It was designed brightly with green and blue tiles. It was cluttered, but cozy. I walked forward towards the bath, reached up and turned on the shower, before pulling the multicoloured shower curtain across. As the room began to steam up, I quickly undressed, ignoring the bruises that had collected on my body. I pulled back the curtain and stepped into the bath, immediately letting the water drown my skin. It felt amazing. Letting the water wash away all the sweat and grime, and bad memories of _him_ touching my skin. I felt clean. Refreshed. I picked up a pink bottle of shampoo I assumed belonged to Emily. I felt guilty taking it, but then reassured myself that she wouldn't mind. I would repay her for everything she had done anyway. I lathered my hair with the sweet smelling shampoo, and rinsed it under the water. I quickly splashed my face with water, hoping that it would help me appear more awake than what I felt. When I felt satisfyingly clean, I reached up and turned the shower off, before grabbing the white towel I had placed on the rack and wrapping it around me. I stepped out of the bath and onto the white tiled floor, being cautious not to slip. I could feel my stomach; empty. So I quickly dried myself off and got dressed before gently rubbing my hair dry to get rid of the excess water. I glanced around the small bathroom searching for a laundry basket, I eventually found it in the corner of the room hidden under a large cupboard. I put the towel into the basket, and closed the cupboard once more. I made sure to steer clear of the mirror as I walked towards the door of the bathroom. I had figured I would look a mess, and I vividly remembered _him_ hitting me, so I assumed I would have a few bruises. I slowly opened the door of the bathroom; it was quiet.

I was hoping that Paul and Sam – who I had figured to be Emily's boyfriend – had left the house as Emily had ordered them to. I didn't really want to be confronted by them, especially when I wasn't feeling up to answering many questions. Although, in saying that, I had a few questions to ask myself. Boundaries? I had been sub-consciously wondering what they were since I had heard Sam mentioning that Paul had broken them. I didn't want to seem rude, so, I decided that it probably wasn't best if I asked about it. And anyway, it most likely had nothing to do with me. I padded down the hallway, following the smell of freshly cooked food, my bare feet tingling as they met the cold linoleum floor. It was quite a cozy little house. Small, but it looked bearable to live in. As I continued to walk down the hallway, the cluttering of cutlery and kitchen utensils became louder; Emily must still be busy making me breakfast. I stopped and peered around the corner; the room was large, which seemed most unusual for a house of such compactness. The living/dining room was littered with a large table, two sofas, three armchairs and a large television in the corner. This was obviously the main living quarters in the house. But what confused me was why there were so many chairs, to hold quite a lot of people, when there was probably only three bedrooms. I hoped Emily would explain this later. It would surely get on my nerves if I wasn't able to figure it out. As I became more confident that only Emily was present, I walked around the corner, and into the living room. The kitchen was conjoined onto the living room, and was separated by a workbench. As I had predicted, Emily was still busy making my breakfast.

I thought I had made an unnoticed entrance, but it appeared not. 'I think that shower helped; you're looking much better. More refreshed,' Emily said suddenly looking up at me and smiling. I smiled back timidly, and watched her as she cracked an egg into the frying pan. 'You can sit down, you know,' she said, nodding towards the table. It seemed rude to refuse, so I made my way over to the large table, still bewildered why it was so huge, pulled out a chair and sat down. 'I bet you're starving – but don't worry, it'll be ready in just a sec.'

'Thank you,' I said quietly, removing my attention from Emily cooking and surveying the room. It seemed more like a man's room, from the aura it gave. As I continued to glance around the room, I found more evidence towards this. A PlayStation was situated under the television; there was a countless number of DVD's on a rack beside the television; there was music and car magazines littered across the sofas and a stereo which was surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of CD's. I didn't recall seeing anything feminine.

'There you go.' I think I physically jumped when Emily set the plate down in front of me. I had been whisked away in my own little daydream that I forgot I wasn't the only one in the room. 'Now, if you don't like anything, you don't have to eat it – or if you don't even want whats on your plate, I can make you pancakes or something,' Emily said. I glanced down at the plate of food. A fry. Oh boy. And it looked like heaven. I gave her a gawk look as if to say she was mad, before picking up the fork, stabbing it into a sausage and biting a bit off. I never tasted anything so good. I think I might have actually groaned when my taste buds registered how nice it tasted. 'You like it then?'

I sighed, 'That you _so much_, Emily. This is so, so nice. Just _delicious_.'

'Yes, well, I've heard that my cooking is pretty good,' Emily said with bashful smile as I sent her a questioning look. She sighed, and sat down on the chair at the end of the table next to me. I felt a story coming on. Not that, that was a bad thing or anything – I was still curious as to why this table was so huge. 'I normally cook for Sam's friends from time to time too, you see. I think that's why they keep coming back – because my cooking is so good. I'm not boasting or anything, it's just something I take pride in. And I do like feeding them; it's as if I'm rewarding them,' she explained.

'So that's why there's so many chairs,' I concluded.

Emily chuckled. 'You'd be surprised how cramped it gets when you have seven, large native Americans in your living room. And you'd be surprised how much they all eat. It's so bad, I've gotten used to buying things by the dozen, just so I would have enough to feed them,' she said. Then I started to feel sorry for her. She hadn't mentioned any female friends as of yet. I couldn't imagine feeding and living with seven guys. I could survive it, I'm sure, but I would miss out on my heart to hearts with another of the female species. 'But the good thing about it is, because I feed them, they all do as I tell them and never argue with me. Food is the way to a man's heart, that's one thing I've learnt.'

'So you reckon if I feed Paul cookies every day for a month, he'd cut this over-protectiveness crap?' I asked. Emily laughed heartily, and slightly mockingly as well. I thought she would be the one to help me with this. 'You mean it won't work? Not even tone it down a little bit? I mean, I can't say I'm not flattered with what he's doing, but it can be a bit overbearing –'

'Feeding Paul cookies will not stop him caring about you, Ruby!' Emily said, as she continued to laugh. I ceased to find what she found amusing. I frowned, all I needed was a little bit of an explanation. 'You look unamused –'

'Of course I am! I just – I can't understand why he feels the need to protect me and care for me and be really nice to me and – it just doesn't make sense, Emily,' I said, sighing deeply. I was having a dilemma.

'Maybe he likes you. Maybe he sees you as more of a friend – '

'That – no –' That statement hit me head on. More than a friend. I was so not ready for that. After all that I had been through with guys in the past, I was not ready for another one breaking my heart or hurting me. I shook my head and looked away from Emily, avoiding eye contact. 'I – I'm not ready for that, Emily. All I need right now is a friend who I can trust.'

She actually looked sad. Like a wee, old lady who had just found out someone had ran over her cat. 'I understand, Ruby. After all you've been through recently, I think it's best if you just find your feet again – especially after what happened last night,' she said compassionately. For a while I had actually forgotten about that. That _thing_ that happened. _Him_. Everything. But then it all came rushing back. I felt my expression drop to something completely emotionless. Emily picked up on this. 'Oh –' she generally did sound sorry, '– I'm so sorry, Ruby. I shouldn't have said anything!'

I managed a small smile. 'It's okay, Emily. I know you didn't mean it. And anyone could accidentally say something that would remind me –' I stopped as suddenly the front door opened. I snapped my gaze to the door; Paul was standing in the doorway. My eyes immediately drawn to his toned, muscled chest which was in full view in all its glory. I had to tear my eyes away to meet his gaze. He looked angry, or rather_ furious_. His fists were clenched, and he began to shake violently. I couldn't look at him. I bowed my head quickly and began to move the food around on my half-empty plate. I heard him growl impatiently. I sub-consciously bit my lip. My nervous habit. I didn't know why he was angry.

'Paul, calm down. Go outside,' Emily ordered calmly, scraping her chair back against the tiled floor and getting to her feet. 'Paul, if you don't go outside, I'll have to get Sam. It's not safe. Go outside now,' she said as though she were telling off a child who had been caught stealing out of the cookie jar. I remembered being one of those kids. That was a long time ago. I couldn't persuade myself to look up and see if he had gone. There was a growl. He hadn't. 'Paul!'

'I _am_ calm, Emily,' I heard him insist angrily.

'I think I know when you're calm and when you're not calm, Paul. Get out of my bloody house!' Emily snapped sternly; she wasn't a woman to mess with – even a tall, muscled, naturally angry guy didn't scare her. He scared me. I didn't want to look up at him, just in case he was still glaring at me.

'I'm not going anywhere! I need to talk to Ruby –'

'Paul –'

'WHAT?!'

The door slammed open; I jumped and quickly glanced up. 'Emily? What's going on?' Sam asked urgently, looking Emily up and down as though to check her for injuries. He seemed very concerned. His gaze traveled towards Paul who breathing heavily, his fists still clenched tightly. 'Paul … –' Paul glanced at him, his glare penetrating Sam with such a force, the phrase 'if looks could kill' came into mind. This hadn't been the first time I had referred to this phrase. 'Outside now,' Sam demanded. Paul didn't budge. He looked back at me, only this time, I didn't look away. I could see he was still angry, but there was something different about his expression. I couldn't put my finger on it. 'Paul, think of the consequences if something went wrong.'

Paul took one last look at me and fled.

Sam followed him out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Out of reaction, I stood up, pushing the chair back with the backs of my knees and maneuvering myself away from the table. I was curious. Too curious to know why he was so furious along with the slight urge to apologize and admit that he was right. I know, I know, that's going totally against my way of things – I usually never admit that I'm wrong. But, he had broke this treaty thing to save me so, I guess I owed it to him. I walked quickly towards the front door, past Emily –

'I think it's best that you stay in here, Ruby –'

'Calm down? Calm down?! HAVE YOU SEEN HER FACE!? DID YOU SEE WHAT THAT BASTARD HAS DONE TO HER! I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!'

I stopped abruptly, my hand inches from the handle of the front door. My face? What was wrong with my face? Oh. _He _had hit me. I turned to look at Emily, searching her face for some sort of explanation. If I had another black eye, let me tell you, Paul wouldn't be the one killing _him_. 'Is it really that bad?' I asked her, looking around the room for a mirror. I finally spotted one in the corner of the living room. Without letting her answer, I walked across the room stopping in front of the mirror. I gaped. Okay, it wasn't as bad as what Emily had and would permanently have, so I wasn't that bad off. My nose was badly bruised, and bloody looking and my left cheek was a yellowy-green colour. Basically, I looked like shit. 'Oh,' I mumbled, bringing my hand up to my battered face and touching it gently. I had to admit, I hadn't taken any notice to the pain I had felt earlier that morning. It probably had been a good thing, or else I would have been a total wreck.

'It'll heal well, Ruby … ' Emily said, as she walked up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I smiled back gratefully; she really had done an awful lot for me and all for nothing. This made me determined to pay her back. 'In a couple of weeks you'll not see a trace of it.'

I didn't know how to reply. I felt rather guilty knowing that my facial injuries would disappear eventually, whilst Emily was stuck with hers for the rest of her life. I simply smiled, though it was beginning to hurt. 'Uh .. Emily? How … How did you get your – your scars?' I plucked up the courage to ask her. 'I-I was just wondering …'

She smiled back at me, as if she knew the questions was coming. 'I was mauled by a bear –' I gasped, '– in the forest, a little over six years ago ... I think,' she said, without any hesitation whatsoever. Mauled? By a bear? Oh my. I stared at her pitifully, my mouth opened slightly. 'I don't accept pity, so stop looking at me like that!' Emily said playfully, waving her hand airily.

'I'm so sorry –'

'Oh stop it. Seriously. All you have said this morning is sorry and thank you – I don't want to hear any more of it!' Emily said, and I think she was deadly serious. She watched me for a while in the reflection of the mirror, studying my expression. 'Well, I'm afraid I can't stand here all day, I had work to do,' she laughed, 'And … I think you should go and talk to Paul.'

I made an indecisive face; but I knew she was right. 'I will … but, I think I'll go for a walk – clear my head, that sort of thing,' I said, turning my attention to the window where outside the sun was shining brightly.

'That's a good idea – stay out of the forest though,' Emily said, though it sounded more of a warning. Which I would obviously take heed of. 'There's a walkway that goes from the bottom of our yard, through a bit of the forest and out onto the cliff. I would normally go for a walk down there if I ever feel the need to get away from it all,' she said, walking towards the front door and opening it. She walked into the porch and opened the small cupboard, and pulled out a pair of trainers. For me I assumed. 'Here you go. You'll need a pair of shoes.'

I walked through the living room towards her, where she handed me the trainers. I searched for the label. They were exactly my size. 'Thanks,' I said, bending down and slipping them onto my feet. When I looked up, Emily was gone. I peered out the door and she was standing outside in the sun. I made my way through the front door, walked out onto the porch and into the sun where Emily was standing. I looked around; it was a very picturesque place to have a house. Right beside the forest, and not far from the sea. I turned around to take a look at Emily's house; it appeared to be more of a cottage. 'It's lovely out here, Emily,' I said, smiling as I looked up, seeing the sun shine brightly and the clear, blue sky.

'It is, isn't it,' Emily smiled, following my gaze and looking to the sky.

I looked around once more, suddenly noticing a small indent in the forest perimeter. 'Is that the track down there?' I asked her, pointing towards the edge of the forest.

'Yeah, just keep to it and you'll reach the clifftop – and don't dive off it,' Emily said with a wink. I smiled thankfully and began to make my way slowly towards the track. 'If I don't see you within four hours, I'm sending Paul after you!' she called after me, laughing. I must admit, I did laugh myself.

I wandered slowly towards the track, not thinking anything at all. Just admiring my surroundings. When I finally reached the beginning of the track, I peered down it. It was surprisingly well lit considering a forest is normally quite dark. Undeterred, I continued my walk. I listened to the sounds of the leaves on the trees rustling in the wind, the birds chirping and the wind whistling. It was refreshing to be alone, to wallow in my own thoughts. Paul. Yes, I know, how cliché. My theory. Ha. What theory? It had completely gone to the dogs. No friends? I did have friends. Brie, Sophie, Kim, Quil and Embry. Paul. And now Emily. Not falling for any guy no matter how amazing he is? Ha. Yes, I admit it. I do like Paul. But I can't. Not now. Not after what happened last night. Last night. And _him_. Brie said he liked me. Maybe a bit too much. I hoped he wouldn't bother me anymore. I don't think he will, especially if Paul has anything to do with it. He really was angry. But I don't know whether he was angry at me, or what had happened. Which was why I needed to talk to him. And apologize.

I didn't know how long I had been walking for. It seemed like a while, though, Emily had said that the track only went through a part of the forest, which explained why the vegetation was thinning out and I could see the sea. I quickened my pace automatically. I wasn't sure why. But I guess because it looked so nice out on the cliff with the sun shining down. I stood for a while, just admiring the view from the top of the cliff before deciding my feet were tired. I simply sat down and leant back against a small tree, making myself comfortable. It was nice up here. Quiet and secluded. A perfect place to think. I closed my eyes, listening to the waves crash against the cliff below. It was practically lulling me to sleep. There he was in my thoughts again. Paul. Why? It brought me back to what Emily had said earlier, how I can try to resist him, but probably won't be able to. What did she mean? That I would probably end up with Paul? I might. But that might not happen. It might never happen. In the back of my mind I wanted it to. But I wasn't going to tell anyone that. Especially not Paul. I don't know what it was about him. I feel so _drawn_ to him. Like, if I haven't spoken to him in a while, I start to feel the need to. But there's times when .. oh, he just _annoys_ me. It's hard to explain. It's like we have a love/hate relationship. It's like –

'You really scared me, Ruby.'

I snapped my eyes open and glanced to my right.

Paul.

**Well? What do you think? Tell me, tell me, tell me!!!! I actually really, really enjoyed writing this chapter! It just felt that my writing was going back to normal again. So, yeah, the _author_ is pleased with this chapter … but the question is .. ARE YOU? Pleasssee review and make me happy!**

**There are also some things I want to know .. if that's alright (:**

**1. Do you think I have filled these first seven chapters with too much drama?**

**2. What do you think of the progression of the relationship between Ruby and Paul?**

**Ohh man ... so, this is set in Breaking Dawn .. after? I don't actually know! I'm soo unorganised! Okay, any of you Twilight buffins out there .. can you help me out? If this was set after BD .. then there would be no boundaries anymore. Right? This only came up when i had finished writing the chapter .. so I'm feeling a bit .. uh .. screwed. Seeing as the 'you broke the boundaries argument' comes up in this chapter. And it might not actually exist any more ..... Help!**

**Does it really matter to you guys though? I need to know! .... Or do you not care and just want Ruby and Paul to get over all this crap and jump each other? hahahaaaaa**

**Thanks a bunch! Yours sincerely, Tori!**


	8. Fusion

Chapter Eight

I think I literally shat myself when I seen him standing there. Immediately, I felt horrible. He looked so disappointed and, almost sad, in a way. I looked at him. Just staring into those golden coloured eyes. They showed nothing but disappointment. I didn't know what to say. Or what to do. I knew I had done something stupid. Heck, I had done a lot of stupid things since I moved to Forks! But now I actually felt bad, just seeing Paul's expression. I opened my mouth to speak, and shrugged my shoulders slightly, but nothing came out. I sighed, shook my head, and looked away, closing my eyes; disgusted with myself. Why did I have to be so Goddamned stupid! And selfish! I was so confused. Normally I wouldn't give a damn how other people felt, or thought of me and my behavior. But now, I was mentally kicking myself for being such .. such a _bitch_. Wait. Why should I care what other people think of me? I'm just being me. Well, perhaps not lately. But, there has been a lot of drama in my life lately, so I'm not entirely to blame. But, I had been a bitch to Paul. I know, he has only tried to help me. Although, that didn't mean his overprotective shit wasn't annoying. God. Isn't life so damn confusing? Urgh.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Paul move closer. He sighed, and sat down beside me; his legs crossed. He began fumbling around with the grass on the ground, and pulling it out. If I was being honest, it was very distracting. Then, he stopped. All was silent. I wondered why he hadn't said anything else. Normally if I hadn't replied, he would have started talking, to fill the silence. But today was different. 'Why did you run off like that, Ruby?' he asked, his voice quiet.

That, was a very good question. But, even I didn't entirely know the answer to. 'I – I just – ' This was going very well indeed. I hadn't even stringed three words together yet, ' – I just needed to get away. I was … _scared_. And, I didn't want to have people asking me what happened, and people fussing over me and people – '

'Caring?' Paul said; I glanced at him, looking at him indifferently. 'People caring about you isn't a bad thing, Ruby. Even when I try to show compassion, or help you, or try and stop you from doing something reckless – you just seem to brush it off. It's almost impossible to get through to you.' I scowled and furrowed my eyebrows. Exactly what was he saying? I don't have to listen to everything he says! I am the boss of myself, he doesn't have a say in anything. 'Don't look at me like that, Ruby. You know it's true.'

'Well, excuse me. It's not my fault that I'm going through a rough patch in my life. Forgive me for not accepting your 'compassion',' I said, using my fingers to show quotation marks. See what I mean about the 'love/hate relationship'? One minute I feel bad about the things I have done to him, the next he annoys me and I snap at him. Still, he should know better than to say something that will offend me. The last time he did that he ended up with a broken jaw. _Oh,_ wait. _I_ ended up with a few broken knuckles. Which are now mended, but still feeling rather wonky. And they look rather wonky too.

Paul sighed; although it sounded more like a growl to me. He had a pained look upon his face; clearly he was annoyed. 'Oh come on, Ruby! Grow up! Maybe you should open up and tell people about your problems instead of doing things that you _think_ might help them! It's just stupid! Do you even realise the pain you're causing some people? Your mother, your – '

'_My mother_!' I snapped ferociously. 'My mother doesn't give a _damn_ about me!' Paul looked at me incredulously, and I was sure he didn't believe me. 'She doesn't. All she cares about is herself! No one else matters, not even my Dad! She's a lying, cheating, whore – who, if I had my way – I would have nothing to do with!' All of a sudden, I was overcome with anger. I felt as though I was going to explode. I quickly got to my feet, walked away from him whilst taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

'Ruby... I don't think –'

'NO!' I screamed, spinning around to face him; he too had got to his feet. I just couldn't bottle the anger up any longer. This was the explosion. I stared at him, 'You don't understand! She _cheated_ on my father! I _saw_ her! I walked in on her having sex with another man! Do you have any idea how scarring that is? And to think, she wanted to 'sort things out' afterwards! And still, to this day, my father knows nothing. NOTHING! I don't even have the guts to tell him – I can barely look at him!'

I was so angry. And I hated taking it out on Paul, but I needed to do this for myself. I needed someone, anyone to know what I was going through; and Paul just happened to be there. 'And if that isn't enough, I was stupid enough to get drunk because of it! Then there's you!' Paul furrowed his eyes in confusion, and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. 'You just confuse me so much!' I said, running my hands through my hair. 'I don't know whether I love you or hate you half the time! I love spending time with you, I really do! But you annoy me so much some times! All this protectiveness – I didn't need protecting! But .. '

I felt my eyes welling up with tears. Normally I could hold an emotional argument without crying, but this was too much for me. I _needed_ to talk about last night. 'I'm not so sure anymore because.. I'm scared.' Then, the tears began to spill down my cheeks. In a way, it was a sort of closure for myself. The tears just kept coming, and I couldn't stop them. My breathing became uneasy; I began to sob. Paul walked slowly towards me. I kept eye contact with him even through my tears. 'I'm scared of – of M-Mark. I-I'm... scared of what - what I'll d-do to m-myself if things get b-bad again .. I – I – '

Paul reached his hand up, gently cupping my face. His hand was warm, very warm. Like he had a fever or something. But it was comforting. And I felt comfortable with him touching me, even after last night. I thought I could never let a guy touch me again, even in the slightest. But I guess that showed how much I trusted Paul. 'You don't need to be scared, Ruby. Though I know you don't like it, _I'll_ protect you. I don't want to see you getting hurt again,' he said, slowly and quietly, as if hoping that the message would sink in easier.

I managed a small smile, but I couldn't stop crying. 'I'm very – thank you, P-Paul. But .. I just – I can't get it out of my head. What – what h-happened .. _last night_,' I sobbed, tears spilling down my cheeks, my breathing coarse and uneven. Paul immediately dropped his hand from my cheek, and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his warm chest. I didn't protest. Instead, I buried my head in the crook of his neck and sobbed my heart out, whilst he rubbed my back soothingly. I played over every memory of the night before, even if it did make the tears fall heavier, but I hoped that would rid me of the memories forever. Soon, I forgot all about why I was crying. I was just crying. And Paul was just there for me. Holding me, comforting me, being a _friend._

Though I thought my parents didn't actually care about me, on Sunday evening, I found out that I was so, so wrong. Paul had offered to take me back home after I had had dinner at Emily's, and since I had no car, I had no other option. I could have walked, but I would have probably ended up getting lost again. Not that it would be an unfamiliar circumstance for me. As we got closer to my house, much to my surprise, there was a police car sitting in the driveway. Now, either my dad had got a new job as a policeman, or I was in big trouble. The latter sounded most realistic. Let's just say I wasn't particularly comfortable about this, and almost begged Paul to drive off. He didn't sympathize. At all. Not even when I gave him my 'puppy dog eyes'. He ended up dragging me to my own front door, where I walked in to find my mother sobbing her eyes out, whilst trying to speak to a police officer. Father was standing over her watching gravely. Once they saw me, I was jumped upon by my mother who began sobbing on my shoulder. That was the last bit of 'relieved emotion' that my parents showed. After that, all hell broke loose. And I was grounded. For three weeks. But, let's face it, where in this town, would I want to go after these awful last few days? Nowhere. So sitting in my room all day was completely fine with me. I didn't even argue with said sentence; in fact, I wouldn't have minded if it was longer! I still had to go to school, of course. And if I'm honest, my parents type of grounding really doesn't suit me, or affect me in any way. '_You're grounded. And you know what that means; no going out with your friends. You will stay in this house when you come home from school and at the weekends. School projects are the only exceptions.' _Pfffft. Big deal.

Paul was questioned by the police officer. Although, it seemed the officer was more intimidated by Paul than what Paul was of him. He was asked why he had brought me home so late from a party which was the night before. He asked how he knew me. He asked what had happened at the party. And he asked if he was the owner of the car he was driving – maybe he thought Paul has stolen it? I didn't know if I should press charges against Mark. It had scarred me, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to tell someone I didn't know. Especially about a topic as sensitive as that. I figured I should wait, and build up my confidence again. It seemed a wise thing to do. And anyway, Mark wouldn't give me any more trouble. Paul definitely wouldn't allow it.

On Monday, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to school or not. But father did not make staying at home an option. Apparently it was my fault that I looked like a battered zombie because I went to a party. And that was that. I was made to go to school. I was very thankful too. More publicity for Ruby Taylor – as if the last couple of weeks hadn't been enough! So, as usual, I had my shower. Then I threw on a pair of navy skinny jeans, and a red top – I skipped breakfast. I opened the front door to find Paul parked outside in his red car. I definitely didn't remember asking him to pick me up. But apparently, I wasn't allowed to drive myself to school, or so he said. At school, everyone stared. What else did I expect? I had a bloody great, green, purple, and yellow bruise on my cheek. Not to mention, I was pretty sure everyone knew what had happened. Even then, I didn't even get asked if I was okay. Hmmph. Monday wasn't very eventful if I'm honest. People steered clear of me. Again, I didn't really care. But I didn't want to be considered an outsider either. Paul left me home again at the end of the day, and didn't leave until I had closed the front door. It was as if he was making sure I was safe. It wouldn't surprise me if that was his motive for bringing me to school either.

It was now Tuesday morning, and I woke up to the sound of rain battering my window. It had never occurred to me that I was actually shivering from the cold. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and peered around my room. It was a dark and dreary morning. I sat up, only realising then that my window was open. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. I hadn't opened it the night before. And I certainly hadn't gotten up in the middle of the night to open it. I pulled myself out of bed; there was a puddle of water below my window where the rain had got in. I groaned as I pulled the window closed – more cleaning up to do. And more being yelled at, especially if the water was dripping through the floor and to the ceiling below. I quickly ran into the hall, and grabbed an old towel from the hot-press, and took it back into my room where I set it upon the puddle of water. I was already running late, so I didn't have time for a shower. I walked towards my wardrobe, and picked out a simple, red top, and black jeans. I pulled on my grey combat boots, and tied them up. I looked in my long mirror, smoothing off my jeans, and the creases on my top. I decided I couldn't really do much with my hair, so I left it down, just pinning my side fringe back with a black bow. Once again, I kept my make-up simple. It wasn't as if I was trying to impress anybody, so the minimum would do.

I left the towel to mop up the puddle of water on the wooden floor, and walked downstairs. I hung my bag and biker jacket over the banister, and walked into the kitchen. My parents had already left for work. Mother had found a job in Port Angeles, which was an hour away, so it meant she had to get up pretty early. I opened the larder, and pulled out a box of Cornflakes, before walking towards the fridge. As I reached to open the fridge, there was a post-it note stuck to it. _'I know you're grounded; but we've ran out of food. Could you go to the store after school please – Dad. P.S, money's in your cereal box.' _As though it was a reflex, I looked down at the box of cereal in my hand, shaking my head in amusement at my father's inventiveness. I opened the fridge and grabbed the pint of milk, before nudging the fridge closed again with my shoulder. I set cereal and milk down on the table, before I began to fumble around inside the box for the money dad had left me. I found it easily and pulled out eighty dollars – we must need a lot of food. I went to get a bowl from the cupboard, but realised when I looked at the clock, breakfast was the last thing on my mind. I had ten minutes to get to school. I grabbed the money, and ran into the hall, putting it in my purse, and hiding my purse at the bottom of my messenger bag. It was still raining outside, so I put on my biker jacket. I grabbed my bag, and the car keys which were sitting on the desk in the porch and opened the front door. Immediately, I was hit in the face with a gust of wind. I frowned; I sure did miss the weather in California. It was a struggle to try and close the front door, but I eventually got it shut, and locked. I was about to open the Mercedes, when a car came skidding to a halt at the end of the driveway.

It was red. The passenger side window, was rolled down. Paul was sitting at the wheel, looking very serious. 'Get in,' he said, without offering an explanation. I had told him yesterday that I would be fine to drive myself to school – but apparently he knew better.

'Paul, I told you. I didn't need a lift to school today. I can drive myself,' I said, having to shout for him to actually hear me over the blustering wind. My hair was getting in my face, and I could barely see I front of me. But, I could certainly see that Paul wasn't in the mood this morning.

'Ruby, just get in the bloody car!' He shouted. I didn't dare not comply.

I ran towards his car quickly, eager to get out of the cold, wet Forks weather. I pulled open the passenger door, and hopped in before slamming the door closed. As soon as I had closed the door, Paul sped off down the road. I didn't even want to know what speed he was doing. 'So... What's got your tail in a knot this morning?' I asked lightheartedly, glancing at Paul, who was watching the road intensely. He didn't reply. I rolled my eyes. 'Oh, that's okay. Don't reply. My morning was okay, thanks. Although, I woke up and my window was lying right open. The rain had poured – '

'What did you just say?' Paul growled angrily, staring at me.

I racked my brain, trying to think of something that I might have said to offend him. I mumbled, but I still couldn't think of what I had said. I looked out the window for some inspiration – I gasped with fright. 'Paul! Watch the road!'

'Shit,' Paul cursed; he slammed on the breaks, and swerved past a truck which was parked on the side of the road. I swear, I thought I had seen my life flash before my eyes. I scowled at Paul; mainly for not watching the road _and_ driving too fast. 'Sorry about that,' he said, glancing at me with an apologetic smile. 'You said something about your window?'

I contorted my face bewilderedly. '_My window?_ It was lying wide open, and I had closed it before I went to bed and I definitely didn't get up in the middle of the night to open it,' I said, still confused as to why he was so interested in my window.

I watched Paul; he didn't seem very happy at all. 'I knew I couldn't trust that idiot! I swear, I'll kill him when I see him! Couldn't even do one simple thing I asked him to do!' he grumbled angrily; he was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned a shade of white.

'Paul, what _are_ you talking about?'

He took a deep breath, and swallowed, before glancing at me; 'Never mind,' he said with a smile. 'I – em – just thought you'd like some company going to school today,' he said, although, I wasn't sure if I believed him entirely. 'Did you do that Biology homework? I didn't have a clue what half of it it meant; all those long words didn't make sense to me. But I got most of it done.'

I looked at him confusedly, 'What Biology homework? We didn't have any.'

'Uh.. yeah, we did.'

'No we didn't! You're making this up.'

'I swear we do! Honestly!'

'Mrs Bannerman didn't set up any homework, Paul. I'm positive she didn't,' I said, and I couldn't help but smiling at what we were arguing over. How petty. It was five to nine, and we had just pulled into the school car park – maybe Paul's fast driving had paid off after all. He stopped the car in an empty space, a few metres away from the entrance of the school building.

'Well, whatever you think, Ruby. And don't you worry if you find out we did have some; I'll let you copy mine,' Paul said, grinning with a wink. I giggled and shook my head. It was amusing how even though we could argue over anything, he still managed to make me laugh.

'I'm not sure I'd want to copy yours, Paul – the answers would be all wrong,' I jibed, with a small smirk. I opened the car door, and stepped out of the car, leaving Paul looking rather taken aback. I walked around the front of the car, waiting on him.

I heard the car door open, and close again. 'Are you calling me stupid?' he asked.

I laughed, looked back at him, and winked, before walking on ahead of him. Water was splashing behind me, and all of a sudden, my hood was pulled up and over my face. I spluttered, and pulled it back down. I scowled at Paul who was now walking front of me. 'That was _totally_ uncalled for.'

'You were the one who called me stupid, and it was simply payback,' he said, plainly. He didn't bother to look back at me, but I could see that he was smiling. I liked spending time with Paul. I mean, I couldn't deny that he did annoy me sometimes, but he was good fun and he could take a joke – well from me anyways. I smiled to myself, and watched my feet splashing in the water on the tarmac. Then I reached a pair of feet; I looked up and Paul was looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. 'No comeback?' he asked, watching me carefully. I shook my head, maintaining the smile on my face. 'Who _are_ you, and what have you _done_ with Ruby Taylor?'

'It's still me,' I said quietly.

Paul smiled, and put his arm around my shoulders. He bent down and whispered in my ear, 'Or maybe this is the happy, content Ruby Taylor, who hasn't been bottling everything up and has finally told someone her problems.' I couldn't help but grin. I bit my lip, and felt my face firing up. I was blushing – again. I swear, this boy has it in for my theories! 'I mean you might be a bit ugly at the minute – ' I fake gasped, knowing that he was joking. I pouted and removed his arm from my shoulders. 'Wait, Ruby, I was only joking!' He grabbed my hand and pulled me back; I looked up at him with my eyebrow raised. 'Even with that ugly bruise on your face, you're still beautiful.'

I blushed. Big time.

I was still blushing when I turned around and began to walk with him towards school. We were still holding hands.

'Not to mention, you look cute when you blush too,' Paul laughed, poking my side playfully.

'Awhk shut up,' I said, but I couldn't hide my grin, so it didn't seem like an order at all.

To my surprise, he didn't say anything else at all. He seemed content to just hold my hand as we walked through school. I don't even think he noticed the looks we were getting. I did; but I didn't care. I was feeling more like me, than what I had done in months. Maybe my theories were wrong. I _did_ need friends. I needed someone I could tell anything to and someone that I could trust. And Paul was being exactly that person. He didn't judge me, or tell me I was wrong. He was just there.

When we reached our Biology classroom, we walked in, still holding hands. Although, no one seemed to notice, not that I would have cared if they did or not anyways.

Paul leaned down to my height as we reached our desks, 'Now, I promise I won't say 'I told you so' when Mrs Bannerman asks to collect in the homework,' he smirked, letting go of my hand and turning to go and sit at his desk.

I shook my head, smiling, and rolled my eyes, as I made my way to my desk, where Mauve was already sitting patiently. 'Good morning, Mauve,' I said cheerfully, with a smile. She didn't reply, and continued to stare at the front of the room. She had a moody frown on her face, and I furrowed my eyebrows. 'Is everything okay? Are you feeling alright?'

'Well,' Mauve said, turning to stare irritatedly at me through her milk bottle – like glasses, 'I was feeling okay, and _then_ you and Paul arrived.' I was very, very confused. We had done nothing wrong. In fact, we were always very nice to her. 'I thought _you knew_ I like him!' she snapped quietly. I gasped slightly, and opened my mouth .. _Ohh_. We were holding hands when we came into class.

'Uhm, no, Mauve – we're just friends,' I said, with an attempted smile. 'I just haven't been feeling very well, and Paul was just cheering me up. I mean – we – he – we're just _friends_.' Of course, in the pit of my stomach, I did like Paul more than a friend. But I was no where near ready to have a relationship with anyone. Not after what has happened in the last six months of my life. And, I didn't want to hurt Mauve's feelings – she had trusted me enough to tell me that she liked Paul, and I didn't want to undo that.

'Oh, well that's okay,' Mauve said, with small smile. 'I knew you weren't like the other girls, Ruby. You wouldn't steal someone else's man.'

'Of course I wouldn't, Mauve.' Not intentionally anyway...

Soon, the chattering within the classroom died away as Mrs Bannerman entered the room. She was an adorable, wee, old lady, but you shouldn't be fooled by the cotton wool exterior – she was a woman that took no nonsense. She began fumbling away on her desk with many sheets, and papers, before she looked up at the class. 'Now, before we begin today, I believe I have some homework to collect in.'

My jaw dropped and I stared at her. Paul was right. How on earth did I miss her handing out the homework? Oh bollocks. Detention for me, I guess. I glanced around at Paul, with an apologetic grimace on my face; wishing I had believed him. He simply sat back in his chair, his arms folded, a smug smile on his face.

'Now, Miss Taylor, do you have your homework?'

'No, I don't Mrs Bannerman. Sorry.'

'Well... I'm afraid that means a detention, Miss Taylor. Friday afternoon, in this classroom, please.'

Maybe I should listen to Paul more often.

**I finally updated! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since my last update, but I've been so, so busy! Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter; it's not as long as the others, but I'm just getting into my stride after not writing this story for so long. So, tell me what you think? REVIEWS! PLEASE :-D**

**Thanks so much for your patience! Tori **


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